Racing for Freedom
by bluetreeleaves
Summary: AU - V/H The man reached for a leather folding briefcase that was sitting innocently beside his stool leg and fished out a closed manila package. Placing it on the counter between the two of them with a shaky hand, the man said, "This is half. The rest once the job's complete." Inside the package was fifty-thousand dollars and a picture of a short-haired woman.
1. The Game

**And here is Part 1 of an idea I've had running through my mind for a long time. I up and wrote it all out - a special thank you to Nai for proof reading it! Thanks girl!. I've got everything planned out and I'm practically middle of the way done with the next part. Thanks for waiting and my other stories have been typed on - just not fully edited and whatnot. I tell you that takes me absolutely FOREVER.  
**

**I hope you guys enjoy it. It was so much fun to write! See you at the bottom!**

* * *

With a deep breath, Hitomi closed the damaged wooden door to the three-story apartment complex and pulled the collar of her leather jacket up on her neck. The night was a deep, icy black. Glancing up with worried green eyes, she looked for the moon through the draping trees. It was absent. A new moon. She was thankful there wasn't a race tonight. Grandma Nina always said a race with no moon meant trouble.

The cold wind tossed her short, brown hair and made the trees dance with a chilling whistling song. Suddenly, a cheerful trill sounded from her bag.

BOOPBOOP-BEE-BOOP… BOOPBOOP-BEE-BOOP…

Smiling absentmindedly at her cheesy ringtone, Hitomi skipped off the dangerously crumbling steps and swung her yellow satchel around her front. Fishing out her cellphone, she flipped in her password and saw the caller's name.

_Speaking of trouble.._. She thought grimly before answering the call.

"Yes, old man?"

"Where are you!?" Pulling the phone away from her ear, she scowled.

"What do you mean? I'm leaving the apartment now. I was about to get my bike from the lot and meet up with grandma at the orphanage. Why?"

"You're leaving _now_?"

She rolled her green eyes. "That's what I just said. May I ask why this is a big deal?"

"Caesar announced a race! You should have been here two minutes ago!"

Hitomi almost dropped the phone. "_What_? But there was one last weekend! When? Where?"

"The start line is now on 88th South Street in the underground! Take the 35th exit off Highway 12! Get here now! We can't afford to lose! Do you have the collar?"

"Yeah, in my bag. You don't think he's making the stakes higher because there's less competition now, do you? Making the Masters work for the goal?"

"We can discuss all that later! Get your scrawny butt here! NOW! Make sure to signal Allen's group!"

"I'm on it, old man!" She shouted and hung up quickly before he could yell anymore. Plunging her phone into the satchel, she fished what looked like a thick, leather collar with long black wires and buckled it around her thin neck. Tucking the wires down her shirt, she pressed a small button on the buckle and raced off the jagged sidewalk towards her parked motorcycle. She unlocked the back and plopped her heavy bag into the back compartment. Securing a black helmet over her short-cropped hair, she kicked her racing bike alive and swiveled out onto the black streets.

She hoped Allen would make it on time.

* * *

Balgus swallowed down the growl that was rising in his throat and tucked the small phone in his pocket. Glancing in the mirror of the rundown bathroom, he straightened the dark wig that was flopping in an odd direction on his head. Pushing up the thin framed glasses on the bridge of his large nose, he made sure his fake controller was perfectly visible on his thick arm. It was an uncomfortable contraption that latched onto his forearm and stuck out like a painter's palette. It consisted of four metal switches on a top row and ten red buttons. The number 28 was branded into the handle. That was his Master's number.

Only, he wasn't an actual Master.

He checked his watch and scowled. Caesar had dropped this surprise on all the Masters. It was only pure luck that he happened to be in the area where the summons was made. He hoped the brat made it in time.

Keeping his head high and an air of self-importance on his face, he strolled out of the bathroom door and exited the old building. Crossing the dark, unoccupied street, he entered through fancy swinging doors and traversed the marble tiled floors towards a small hallway to the left. Stepping onto the red carpeted floor with his sparkling leather shoes, he tried look as stoic as possible as he joined the small line of Masters waiting to sign in with their expecting 'naps. He studied the backs of their heads with his sharp, dark eyes.

Balgus wasn't surprised to see the line so small. This was the first time Caesar had made such a bold move against the Masters. If you didn't sign up your pawn in time for the competition, it was practically a disqualification. Most of the time, all Masters had at least a two-week notice. This was unexpected.

It made Balgus both uneasy and strangely excited.

Would Caesar finally declare a winner to the game now that the Masters' pot was getting smaller? In a way, this was what Balgus had been waiting for all these years. He'd be recognized. Or at least his cover, Rodger Mackmore, would be.

Standing in line, he recognized two of the men waiting in front of him. There was Dr. Nicolas Jackson - the Head Justice of the Criminal Sector in Austuria and the APD's Leader of Investigations and Police Commissioner, Seymour Bevogo.

Balgus inwardly scoffed. And the people of this city wondered why the police department hadn't made any headway into stopping this sick game. The damn Commissioner was two people in front of him. He'd always wondered what kind of person it took to actually participate in this horror. Using real human beings for an increasingly dangerous race like they were thoughtless bits of mindless robots to be played on a video game. These people were sick. And staggering amounts were in leadership positions within the city. Balgus had actually heard the rumors of 'naps getting killed by their Masters for no reason at all. You could buy another, but it was double the price. Triple for a third one.

But ultimately, there was the reward for the winner. And it was this reward Balgus had worked so hard for.

There was almost a deafening silence in the hallway. The old man had an urge to hold his breath in case he exhaled too loudly. That was one thing about the Masters. They were a quiet lot. It had become practically an unspoken rule: don't talk to each other until the game was done. And even then, just congratulate the victor and be on your way.

"Master 23, please step forward." A young woman's voice spoke from the front of the line. Noticing the small flashing light at the end of the hallway, Balgus already knew that the attendant had a neck collar. They always did. They were Caesar's personal pawns.

"Thank you, Master 23. Your pawn has been registered. Please take your place upstairs. Master 12, please step forward." Master 23 turned, the ten buttons of his controller now blinking beautifully on his arm. He was connected to his pawn now. Somewhere near 88th South Street, a 'nap was obediently kicking their bike alive and riding to the startling line.

The Master turned down the hallway and disappeared around the corner. Balgus kept his eyes straight to the front and moved up in the line.

"Thank you, Master 12. Your pawn has been registered. Please take your place upstairs. Master 44, please step forward."

Balgus was after Jackson. He could see the woman now. She was a very small thing. Her thin hands moved expertly over the Commissioner's controls, and within seconds, he was lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"Thank you, Master 44. Your pawn has been registered. Please take your place upstairs. Master 661, please step forward." Devogo turned, headed down the hall, and up the stairs like the rest. Balgus tried not to, but he couldn't help staring at the woman's collar. From what he'd seen with Allen, Balgus knew how they functioned. Eight wires in all. Four wires traveled around the back of her slender neck and snaked beneath the bottom of her skull inside her brain. Allen was the expert in how exactly the collars made the victim a mindless slave. The old man knew the other four black wires were attached to the left valve of her heart. They twisted down her slightly revealing blouse and burrowed disgustingly inside her chest. If her heart ever stopped beating, the collar would act like a bomb and explode instantly.

That was how Caesar destroyed his evidence.

"Thank you, Master 661. Your pawn has been registered."

The old man got his hidden signal ready. Once the attendant 'connected' his controller, he would immediately signal to Hitomi to light up her 'collar'.

"Master 28, please step forward."

He mentally took a deep breath and walked towards her.

* * *

The night was dark and full. Her heart hammered in her chest. With every flash from passing billboard signs, she felt the rush of panic. What if she didn't make it? She prayed inwardly that the familiar beep wouldn't sound.

_Just a little further… just a little further… _she repeated, speeding wildly over the limit. She exited the highway and took a hard left; practically leaning off her bike to make the turn. Entering an abandoned street underneath the highway, she immediately pressed the brake and felt relief.

There they were. Motionless and silent. Waiting like silent lambs for the slaughter.

The kidnapped.

Trying to keep her breathing steady, she slowed her bike further and stopped beside the dirty curb in front of an unmoving 'nap. No one watched her. All helmeted heads faced forward staring straight ahead. Waiting. Her green eyes searched beyond her dark helmet without turning her head. No guards stationed this time as well.

Was Caesar so comfortable that he truly believed no one would try to stop him?

Colors of red and blue suddenly burst from the collar of a still figure three people ahead of her. She tried not to look as the stranger kicked their bike alive and went down the street to hit the underground pathway.

Within minutes, a small beep sounded in her right ear and she immediately reached up to pull the far right wire at her neck. Her collar lit up in an array of colors. With another quick check to make sure all the wires were in place, she pulled the bike off the side and headed down the litter-filled street to the starting line.

_Here we go_, she thought with grim determination. Another small beep in her left ear signaled that the GPS was up and working. Allen was ready and waiting.

Showtime.

* * *

**The next day - afternoon**

Van sighed as he slid onto the familiar wooden stool and placed a rough hand on the smooth polished surface of the bar counter. Swallowing down another sigh, he raked a hand through his long black locks and slightly pulled on the strands on the back of his head. He felt his stomach tense once more with the strange foreboding feeling that had loomed over his mind like a black cloud all day. Van hadn't felt this type of anxiety in years. He was used to trusting his instincts, but what good were his instincts in the real world? What were they trying to tell him?

"Had a rough day, Van?" The barkeeper's smooth voice cut in and the black-haired man smiled gratefully at his friend. The long-haired Dryden Fassa pushed a coaster and a tall pilsner full of dark beer in front of him.

"How could you tell?"

"You're a little later than usual. I thought you might actually be on a date and cheating on me."

"I finished the foundation project a bit late. Besides, you know I only have you in my heart."

"I figured you were always the first one off the site with 'project complete' stamped on your forehead."

"Haven't been myself today. Keep remembering things and having this weird feeling."

"Things and feelings?" His friend asked. Dryden reached over to grab a towel to begin wiping an already spotless counter-top. He caught the quiet haunted look in Van's mahogany eyes and nodded. "I get it. I was there, too. Millerna, as well. We all were there. You need a woman to pull you out of the funk. That or another job. It's the only way out."

Van shook his head and took a gulp of beer. The cold liquid warmed his belly and calmed him slightly. "I don't need a woman. I just need a distraction."

Dryden snorted a laugh. "Trust me. There is no better distraction than a woman. Millerna is my heart and soul, but damn is she annoying. Keeps me on my toes, that one. But enough about me. We were talking about you and your lack of distractions." He twirled a curled piece of brown hair around a long finger.

The black-haired man took another swig of beer. "Maybe distraction isn't the best word, Dryden. It's purpose. It's… something to be proud of."

"Construction isn't everything you've dreamed of and more?"

"It's a lackluster mistress."

Dryden exhaled from his nose and leaned his elbows on the counter. "Look, Van. You need to move on. This is just unrest. Everyone needs stimulation in their lives. How many years has it been? Four? Five?"

Van picked up his glass and drank another mouthful. "Maybe you're right. Maybe you're wrong. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and realize everything was a dream and I'm actually a mongoose with an overactive imagination."

"A mongoose can't pull off flannel as well as you can." Dryden batted his eyelashes jokingly. Van glanced down at his red checkered shirt and snorted a laugh. Watching his long-haired friend get called by the table behind him, he picked up the tall glass by the rim and rotated the bottom of the pilsner on top of the coaster.

_"…__In other news, yet another underground motorcycle race was held last night despite the APD's desperate attempt to stop them. Eries Aston has more on the story…"_

Van looked up to watch the large television mounded at the back of the bar. Black and white photos of familiar crash scenes began to flash across the crystal clear screen. Melancholy music played in the background with the pictures. Some of the photos Van remembered were from several years ago. _The news must have run out of important things to talk about_, he mused silently. Still, he was grateful for its interference from his troubles. Even if it was something they reported about almost every night.

_"__The pictures we are showing to you are from the numerous devastating tragedies the motorcycle races have brought to our once fair city over the past three years. Last night's race was another prime example. A massive accident involving two motorcyclists became the forefront of one of the biggest and deadliest collisions to date. _(A video of a huge pile up of motorcycles popped on the screen. Red and blue flashing lights illuminated the brick walls while uniformed men held flashlights to inspect the enormous pile of twisted metal and wheels. Dark puddles of what might be blood pooled out from the wreckage.) _From what investigators have gathered, two cyclists collided together in a small alleyway on 45__th__ in between Baker's Café and Freud Incorporated. The wreck caused a massive pileup of bikes and bodies. More than half of the riders caught in this death trap died of severe injuries. One man was literally crushed to death by four bikes. Police assume – from the number of bikes verses corpses –only two lived. Just like many accidents before this one, the survivors of the crash disappeared before cops arrived on the scene. We apologize for not showing more of the accident. The dead had their heads blown off from the mysterious contraption strapped to the victim's neck. The only body police have been able to identify so far is twenty-year-old Howard Duncan. Tests prove that he was dead before the neck brace exploded. It has been confirmed that the device detonates as soon as the heart stops beating. Duncan was yet another one of the teenagers reported missing in the wide-spread kidnappings that happened four years ago. Could this be more proof that these motorcyclists are the missing young adults? Are these poor children being forced into these races? _

_"__During the press meeting with Mayor Dornkirk this morning, he is quoted saying, 'This abomination has become a black suffocating cloud for the streets and for the innocent people caught in the crossfire. It is time to put an end to this once and for all.' The Mayor is scheduled to give another speech tomorrow at 2pm in front of the Austria's National Museum, pleading with the senate to give the private APD sector more tax funds for investigation into this long-time atrocity. _(A long, blond-haired woman appeared on the screen standing in front of a downtown APD station. She was very willowy with a stern face.) _'We have asked the private investigators of the Austrian Police Department why it is taking so long to find the leaders of these dangerous races. So far, the answers have been very discouraging. We were informed a long debate was held between the Mayor and the head of the VOP to decide if the GIA should be involved in the investigation. The Mayor stated he was doing everything he could to get to the bottom of this and government involvement might further escalate the criminal organization to higher extremes. But the questions remain: where are these missing children? Why are they forced into this hazardous lifestyle? Again if anyone knows anything with the situation behind these races, the APD encourages you to call…'"_

Van was jerked away from the television as a stranger joined the stool right beside him. He was an odd-looking man with an unfashionable bowl hair-cut. Despite his suit and tie, he looked like someone who had just run four miles and wasn't used to the exercise. He was panting and sweating, which didn't help his already pasty appearance. Van had decided to ignore the stranger, until…

"You're early." He whispered in an unreasonably tense voice. Van quirked an eyebrow and glanced around. He saw no one else except for the couple at the table behind him. "I expected you to be bigger."

"I guess I get that a lot." He answered his mahogany eyes zipping towards Dryden. His friend was busy typing in an order on the computer.

"I was kind of hoping you wouldn't be here."

Van really didn't know how to reply to that. "I'm always here." He responded with a shrug. "Where else would I be?"

"I'm so sweaty and nervous. I'll never understand people like you." The stranger glanced at Van's face and shook his head. "You look so calm."

"It's the low blood pressure." _Is this man drunk?_ Van wondered briefly. Studying the man, he noticed the sharp flick of the stranger's eyes, the way he twitched slightly every time the commercials from the television made a loud noise, the straightness of his back as if he was hunted by a prowling lion. _Not drunk, but probably on drugs_, Van confirmed. _Should I try to help him?_

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Van asked politely. The man blinked.

"Oh, right. The stuff." The man reached for a leather folding briefcase that was sitting innocently beside his stool leg and fished out a closed manila package. Placing it on the counter between the two of them with a shaky hand, the man said, "This is half. The rest once the job's complete."

Trying to keep the utterly lost expression off his tan face, the black-haired man swallowed the growing lump in his throat and pulled the small, thick package slowly towards him with his long fingers. The sweaty stranger nodded and bent to pick up his briefcase. "Your agency knows the number. My contractors will be waiting for the call once it's finished." With a slight trip on his own two feet, the man ungracefully bowed to Van and practically ran out of the bar.

Needless to say, Van's stomach was in knots as his mahogany eyes swiveled back to the package under his fingers. Dryden was no where to be seen.

Inhaling through his mouth, Van broke the seal on the package and looked inside. He felt like he was kicked in the stomach. Five large bundles of hundreds were rubber-banded together. He calculated instantly. Fifty-thousand dollars. Reaching swiftly, the ebony-haired man took a long drink from his beer before reaching in and pulling out a small envelope that was tucked next to the money.

Placing the package on the counter, he flipped open the envelope and reached inside. He blinked. It was a picture of a young woman. She wasn't looking at the camera – which suggested the shot was taken without her knowing. She was standing right outside what appeared to be a small, old apartment complex. Van's mahogany eyes narrowed as he studied the picture. She must have been thinking about something amusing because she had a very small smile on her face, almost carefree. Her brown hair was cropped short, but it suited her small frame. He drew the photo closer to his face. The more he looked at her, the more he realized how pretty she was. She had certain elegance to her that he couldn't describe. Turning the photo over, he read a scrawled print:

"Hitomi Kanzaki, 87 Hummingbird St, No evidence."

Slipping the photo into the front pocket of his flannel shirt, Van wrinkled the envelope in his shaking fist. Closing up the manila package with the money, he saw Dryden appear from the back carrying plates of food. He wondered if he should say anything to his friend. What should he do? Call the police? What exactly was going on here? Did someone want this woman dead? Who was that pasty guy? Did he mistake Van for someone else? Some kind of hit-man of sorts?

He was so distracted, he hardly noticed a man so blond his hair looked silver sit beside him.

"You're early." The man said in a low voice and turned to him with a wide smile gracing his thin lips.

Van jumped and glanced over at the newcomer. The silver-haired man's eyes were twinkling with an overlying good-nature, but Van read behind it. He saw what was beyond the eyes. The man's soul was black. Evil.

"You're thinner than I imagined. And…" he glanced at Van's flannel shirt. "…more blue-collar."

His heart pounded with fear. His stomach churned with the anxiety he'd felt all day. Picking up his beer, he drained it. He felt the man's red eyes watching his every movement. _How can someone's eyes be so scarlet? _He thought with a shiver.

"I'm sorry," Van said once he'd swallowed the last drop. "I've been sent here to inform you that the contract has been terminated." He pushed the manila package towards the man. "This is half the payment just for the trouble. That should be more than enough to please your employers. The deal is off." He tried to keep his face calm and prayed that his bullshit story was acceptable.

"Oh?" The stranger's pale eyebrows rose and his smile grew wider. It must have rivaled the Cheshire Cat. "I didn't think that the contract could be broken."

"Yes, I thought so, too, but I just got the call from my superiors." Van made sure his breathing was slow. Adrenaline pulsed through his body and he willed his muscles to stay relaxed. "They've targeted the wrong person."

The silver man laughed happily and shook his head. "That's no matter to me. I'll do my job with or without upfront payment. I'm sure my agency would have informed me if there were any changes."

Van tried to keep the frustration off his face. "There isn't any reason to kill her. I'm paying you off with fifty thousand. Half of what was promised for not doing anything."

The man leaned his pale cheek on his palm and his grin lowered slightly. Van immediately wondered what happened to people when the smile was gone. With an inner shudder, he realized he didn't want to know.

"Unfortunately, middleman, I have the information on the target already sent from your corporation. I only need to meet you for the money and the target's current location. Interesting that you want this contracted terminated. Never had that happen before. Usually the middleman is a man of few words. Are you new to this?"

Van remained silent. He didn't know how to reply. The man smirked and got up from his stool. "Tell your _employers_ that they can call my agency and cancel anytime they wish. In the meantime, I have a job to do and I intend to see it through." With a happy red-eye wink, he turned and practically glided out the door like a silent wind.

Van sat quietly looking at the swinging glass door. Slowly, he retrieved his phone from his pocket. He was just about to dial the last one on 9-1-1 when he saw the silver-haired man pull out of the parking lot in a police car.

The man was a damn cop.

The black-haired man put his phone back into his pocket and reached into his shirt for the picture of the woman. Whoever this Hitomi Kanzaki was, she was not going to be around much longer. With a deep breath, Van felt a strange strength replace his anxiety and run a course through his muscles.

"Not if I have anything to say about it." His mahogany eyes studied her calm, smiling face.

At last, he found his purpose.

* * *

Millerna sat at the small sofa with calm surprise written on her face. Van rubbed his tired eyes and sighed. Despite the fierce urge to track down this Hitomi Kanzaki immediately, he knew he needed to take a few steps before he ventured into the danger. If this assassin was as thorough as Van predicted, he'd eventually know Van's name, place of employment, and closest friends. Since Van had no family, he knew straightaway where the threat would go once the girl was safe.

"So," she started, folding her arms together and tossing her blond hair over one shoulder. "If a man with bright blond hair comes to the door I should tell him that we don't know you?"

"Exactly. Call Dryden and tell him that I'm just some punk that comes to the bar for a drink from time to time. Tell him to say I'm boring." The black-haired man shifted his feet on the fluffy white carpet. His instincts were telling him he needed to leave soon if he wanted to get to the girl in time. "Please do this for me. I don't want anyone getting hurt."

"This guy. Is he going to _hurt_ you?" Millerna face sharpened and her back straightened. She was getting into soldier mode. "I'll come with you, Van. You need someone watching your back if this is that dangerous."

"You've been in enough danger to last three lifetimes. Stay here with Chid and call Dryden." Van commanded staring her right in the eye. She met his gaze unflinchingly. "If you want to fall back to the old days, call it an order from your superior officer."

"Van, I know you. You are practically my brother. You saved all our lives back on the field. You are godfather to our little boy. You are part of the family. You're telling me that I can't help you? Do you understand how impossible this is for me?"

"Back in the day, I would have welcomed your company, but not anymore, Millerna. You have something precious to protect. And I…" he stopped and unthinkingly put a hand over his pocket where the girl's picture was resting. "I must do this alone."

The blond woman pierced her eyes at him. Finally, she lowered her gaze and stood up. Walking over to a hallway closet, she opened it and pulled out several boxes from the top. "Alright, you lone wolf, if you won't take my help then take this instead." Millerna yanked out a thin wooden box and strolled back over to Van. He took the case and opened the lid.

"Your .45 ACP. This is your favorite pistol. I didn't know you still had it."

A shadow passed over her face. A recollection of memories. "I couldn't get rid of her. She saved my life so many times. There's extra ammo in the bottom compartment. Just lift right here."

Van shook his head. "This is for your safety. What if he comes to attack and you have no gun?"

"You think I can't handle myself without one little pistol? If you remember, we are all _human_ weapons, too." He watched her lift her hands and crack her knuckles. "I'd feel so much better if you had her. You remember how to shoot a gun, right, sir? Just point and fire."

Closing the lid, he shut his eyes for a moment. "I'll take her, but make sure to do everything I've asked. You don't know me. I'm just a reoccurring customer."

"What if whoever they are looks up the old military files? What if they learn who you were? What you've done?"

Van allowed himself a small smile.

"They'll realize how much of a mistake they made handing me that package."

* * *

Balgus sat at the table, his large hands spread on the red and white checkerboard tablecloth in front of him. The screen door faced west and showed the beautiful orange sunset. The ancient kitchen was surprisingly spotless and well kept for how dated all of the cooking equipment was. A stained-glassed hanging lamp flickered on and off above his graying head as he met the older woman's glare sitting in front of him. Her jingling bangles and flashy robes made him roll his small eyes with a snort. She shook her head, gray-brown curls escaping her messy bun on top of her head.

"You had her race with no moon." The flashy woman accused in a low dangerous voice. She jingled as she crossed her wrinkled arms angrily. "You _knew_ there would be no _moon_, Balgus. I've told you about this over and over!"

"Don't patronize me, Nina! You know I don't believe in that crap!" He growled back, trying to push down the feeling of shame filling his stomach.

"I'll patronize you till the good Lord comes if I have to! A new moon means trouble!"

"She survived, didn't she?"

"She may have survived, but that doesn't mean this didn't have repercussions. She narrowly escaped becoming a casualty in that hideous alleyway disaster and don't you dare tell me otherwise!" Balgus had opened his mouth to retort and found himself closing his lips with a snap. "This is my only family member I have left, Balgus. And this silly little mission of yours is becoming more and more dangerous by the year. I cannot have my little Hitomi risking her life."

"She's saving lives!" The large man barked. "We were able to get two from the crash last night. Allen is already working on removing the collar at the shop. Why don't you see how important this is?"

"Don't you understand that she will lose her life in these races? Don't you notice how close she gets to getting discovered by Caesar every single time she races? She's obviously not a 'nap, Balgus. She's not one of those mindless pawns. She thinks and reasons. She has too much talent and doesn't blend!"

"I want her to get noticed by Caesar, Nina! That is the only way into his inner circle. Once he sees who is 'controlling' her, he'll let 'Rodger' in."

"So, you're still on about that 'inner circle' nonsense? Using my poor granddaughter for-"

"She's old enough to think for herself on this. The girl is twenty-five. If she wanted to back out of this mess, then she could easily do so!"

Nina shook her head in anger and even more hair fell around her shoulders. "She'll never back out of it unless you tell her to, you nincompoop! If you hadn't told her about it, she wouldn't have raced last night. But it is too late for you to say anything. Even after I repeatedly warned you otherwise! Disaster will come because you didn't heed my warnings!"

The old man growled, but he felt as if he'd been slapped. "You are the most infuriating woman! Witchcraft was something to burn at the stake back in the day!"

"It is not witchcraft, you jabbering fool!" Nina bellowed back. "You'd think after all these years you'd finally begin to listen to me! She's not some expendable thing you can just yank into danger! This is my _granddaughter_!" Nina's voice rose with each word uttered.

The old man stopped. Swallowing down his continually rising humiliation, he gritted his teeth and thought for a retort against the woman's indictments. Unfortunately, he didn't have to think too hard. Someone spoke for him.

"Grandma, I'm alright. It's tragic, but accidents like that happen all the time."

Balgus' large head turned to see the object of their fight making her way into the kitchen from the hallway. Judging from her short rumpled hair, long t-shirt and shorts, she'd just woken up. Rubbing her green eyes with the palm of her hands, she gave Nina a tired smile. "Besides, we cannot risk getting disqualified. Balgus did the right thing by calling me."

"See? I did the right thing, _hag_." Balgus smirked at Nina and she scowled at him.

The girl tilted her head and crossed her arms. "I just stuck up for you, old man. Please be humble about it."

"I had this whole situation under control, brat! I didn't need your help!" He caught the girl's unbelieving smile and felt irritation swirl with the shame. "Wipe that stupid smug off your face!"

"You're the stupid one!" The colorful woman retorted. The old man felt a gold bracelet hit the side of his head and he glared at her. "I've told you before, you big block-head, there will be consequences because of this race. Something has changed and it won't be for good either. "

"What a bunch of hog-wash!"

"I just hope the 'hero' shows himself soon." The grandmother grumbled.

"That is, if he ever shows his face." Hitomi sighed and shook her head with disbelief. "It's been five years since that vision, grandma. I don't think he's coming."

"The voice of reason speaks from the most unexpected of places." Balgus sneered. He ducked a flying bracelet.

"I saw him! He does exist."

"Not saying that he doesn't," the young girl smiled at the old woman. "But he really has taken his time. Besides, I don't see any man beating down my door lately. Are sure this 'hero' isn't Allen?"

"That skinny lunatic? I sure as hell hope not!" Balgus injected, banging his thick fists on the table. "If he does exist he'll probably just get in my way."

Hitomi grinned. "I think he's jealous."

"I'm not jealous!" The old man roared. "Your visions are something a good medication will cure and nothing more, witch. A new moon doesn't change anything at all! I'd have her race even if it's raining purple cows! We've gotten closer to getting Caesar's attention with this last match! He'll notice her before long."

"And once Hitomi wins the arena, once you've gained access close enough to Caesar, once you've finally gotten him to trust you, then what, oh great mastermind?"

"All I need is one gun." Balgus said calmly. "One bullet. Just get me close enough and I'll put a hole right here." He pointed a thick finger to his gray temple. "He won't see it coming. And then it will all be over. Destroy the puppet master to destroy the puppets."

The short-haired girl swallowed and shifted bare feet on the kitchen tile. "But what if he does see us coming?"

The table was silent. The chirps from grasshoppers could be heard as the afternoon slowly bled into evening.

The magical woman pursed her lips. Ignoring Hitomi left open question, she took off another bracelet and aimed it at Balgus' head. "Impressing the Caesar in his arena to assassinate him has been the stupidest plan of the decade. Hitomi is still a young woman. She should be able to go to college like regular young adults. Not be stuck in your strange fantasy for revenge. If you want to peg Caesar so badly, you race those damn crazy people on your own moped and your own blinky collar and let her live her life for herself." Throwing the jewelry, Balgus didn't even dodge as it flew through the air and bounced harmlessly off his forehead with a small jingle.

"It's not a stupid plan. I've been using my other inside for information as well." He countered with a frown.

Nina snorted. "You mean your job as the APD janitor? Gonna make your way up to the top one toilet cleaned at a time?"

"Not every officer is corrupted. There are some who want the races to stop just as much as me. I hear them talk about it secretly. The GIA is trying to get on the case."

"If it has taken the GIA this long to finally get into gear then we are probably better without them. And what have those _uncorrupted _policemen done to stop it? A whole shit load of nothing!"

"Grandma! Watch your mouth." Hitomi scolded.

The old woman ignored her. "I'm sure they don't even understand what is going on or they've been brainwashed like the rest of that idiot police force. What if you win his favor? What if you are able to earn his respect with Hitomi winning in the races? What then, Balgus? Wait till more innocents are kidnapped for another four years of this horror or stampede with all guns blazing into his office full of trained hit-men in your janitorial trousers?"

"Et tu, Balgus?" The short-haired girl snorted a laugh and ducked as the old man chucked a loose bracelet at her.

"I'm fine with the races for now." He answered after a moment. "The more he summons like he did last night, the more 'naps are being taken out of the equation because of disqualification. The arena is narrowing."

"But no races mean no freed 'naps." The younger girl said. "The more Masters are disqualified, the longer the 'naps remain with their collars and brainwashed slaves. Allen's been deactivating the collars from last night and…" she sighed. "He's had trouble. They are a new brand of collars. Probably a lot more dangerous for the 'naps. We already can't trust the ones we freed three months ago to help in the arena. Allen is the only one who kept his memory the entire time he was in the collar. That was because it was already defaulted. He's also had time to recover."

"You call that loony 'recovered'? He acts like a hamster on three different types of hyper medication. But do you see my point, Nina?" Balgus smirked.

The wrinkled woman pursed her lips, but remained silent.

"I'm fine with racing, grandma." Hitomi walked over to open a cabinet on top of the stove and pulled out a small plastic bowl. "As long as people are being saved, I'm happy with doing the right thing."

"Oh, the ever good-intentioned angels," Nina rolled her wise green eyes.

"I just want to know why Caesar called such an abrupt game. How can he expect a full race if not even the Masters know where to go until just before it begins? It doesn't make sense. Did you learn anything, Balgus?" She grabbed milk from the fridge and began digging around for the cereal box.

He shook his gray head. "Only speculation. The Masters are still as quiet as ever. I just wish I could go ahead and win. Then I could get rid of him once and for all."

"There has got to be other people out there besides us that are trying to secretly stop Caesar. Maybe he knows this and did the summons to get more disqualified." Nina suggested.

Hitomi opened the box and poured cereal into the bowl. "That's an idea. It almost happened to us."

"We can't rule that out, but I have a feeling we are on our own. The Masters I duel with are prominent men." The old man said, picking at a hole in the table cover. "So, it definitely has been a good thing that you raced last night. We need to continue this mission if we are the only ones freeing the 'naps."

"I wonder if maybe more collars are defaulting and he's trying to narrow this batch of 'napped. He'll start again with fresh pawns and updated collars." Hitomi proposed.

Nina shook her head sadly. "Those poor children. Taken from their beds and completely brainwashed…"

Balgus' snorted. "Still feel my cause is stupid?"

The flashy grandmother sniffed, but didn't say anything.

Hitomi placed her bowl on the table, but did not sit down on the chair in front of her. Glancing from the old man to the old woman and back again, she gave a determined look. "We'll win this for them. All Caesar wants is sick entertainment. Gladiators to fight to the death. He thinks he can control the city and call himself ruler? He thinks he can hide behind his precious police department and get away with kidnap and murder? Once we gain access into his inner circle, we'll blow them all away. Better yet, we'll just strap those collars on them and let them see how it feels to be controlled. I refuse to allow this to happen again. They'll have to kill me-"

DING DONG

Hitomi blinked in surprise. Glancing at Nina, who had her gray eyebrows raised in wonder, she felt Balgus' rough hand grab her wrist and he shook his head slowly.

DING DONG

Their eyes traveled entryway which led to the front door. Slowly reaching up, she plucked the old man's hand off of her arm and nodded. "I'll answer it."

"You're not fit to be seen wearing that!" Nina said loudly.

"Shut-it, you old hag!" Balgus hissed. Turning to Hitomi, he murmured, "What if it's Caesar's men?"

"It won't be." Hitomi said rolling her eyes. "We are just being paranoid."

"Even if it isn't, you should wear the collar. Precautionary measures."

DING DONG- DING DONG- DIIIIIING DONG

"I'll get the collar." the younger girl hissed and walked towards her hanging bag near the back door. Fishing it out, she strapped it on as she marched out of the kitchen. Bare feet thumping on the runway carpet lining, she leaned into the door to look through the peep-hole. She saw the form of a man with unruly black hair and tan skin. He was dressed in a deep red flannel shirt that was tucked into slightly dirty blue-jeans. He looked like the definition of Average Joe. She couldn't see his face properly considering he kept looking from side to side. _This is sketchy_, she thought.

"Who are you?" She called from the door, trying to keep her voice emotionless. Like a 'nap.

The man looked at the door with surprise and she finally saw his face. He was handsome in a rugged kind of way. He pulled off the lumberjack look quite well. She caught the strange color of soft tan brown eyes behind his shaggy hair. It was almost like a reddish-brown. She frowned with her face pressed against the wooden door and her eye studying his every movement. "I asked you a question, sir."

"My name is Van, Van Fanel. I'm here… because well…" he glanced left and right once more. "I have learned something recently and I think it involves someone living here."

He had a nice tenor voice. It was very honest sounding and went perfectly with his countenance. Just like someone she'd trust instantly. She immediately distrusted him.

"Look. Could you please just let me in? This is really important."

"Don't let him in, child." Balgus' gruff voice sounded behind her and she gasped lightly. The old man was standing at her back with a shotgun. She frowned and shooed him with her fingers. That's when she noticed Nina standing at the window peaking through the curtains.

"Oh, he's a nice looking young man."

"Grandma, get back in the kitchen, and Balgus, put that shotgun away!"Hitomi ordered forgetting to lower her voice.

"I'm not leaving if you open this door." The old man shouted as Nina said, "I'm not leaving until you open this door." Both old people shot each other a glare.

"Um…" the poor man waiting on the doorstep injected. "I just want to explain. Please, open it and I'll talk right here. I don't need to come in."

"Do it!" her grandma nodded. She turned around to head back into the kitchen. "Trust me, sweetie. Bring him to the kitchen so I can speak with him. And for God's sake put some proper clothes on afterwards!" Hitomi blushed. She sighed and began flipping the four deadbolts unlocked. Silencing Balgus' complaining snarl with a look, the short-haired girl pointed him to the kitchen. The old man growled several curses, lowered his shotgun, and grudgingly stomped away.

Opening the door hesitantly, she swallowed down a sudden flurry of nerves that attacked her stomach. _Grandma trusted him. If she does, then I will._ As soon as his mahogany eyes met her green, his face turned hopeful and he gave a large smile. She felt strange warmth run through her. Why was he looking so happy?

"I found you first. Thank God." He said with obvious relief. "I've been so worried that I didn't make it in time."

"What are you talking about?" Hitomi asked frowning. "I don't even know you."

"It's kind of hard to explain, but I'll try my best." The man – Van – stepped up closer to the doorway and looked down at her with serious eyes. "I've been trying to think through different ways of breaking this to you, but I guess the best thing to do is be completely honest. I was mistaken for an assassin and given orders to kill you. Then, the real assassin came and he mistook me for the one delivering the information. You are in great danger here. I'm sure whoever hired him has already figured out that I somehow intercepted the mission and has given him all the information he needed to find you."

"Oh." Her mind fell flat. The nerves fluttered to her throat and were making it almost hard to breath. "I… don't really understand what you just said."

"Please, believe me. I'm here to help you." The man took a step closer to the door with a pleading look.

Suddenly, her mind was sprinting with thought after thought. What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do? Someone was after her? Did that mean Caesar knew who she was? Did they know the entire thing? That meant Balgus was in danger, too. His 'Rodger Mackmore' cover was completely blown. When did this happen? How were they discovered?

Had these four years of attempted infiltration been a complete waste of time?

She was instantly awakened by a loud scream and two echoing _BANGs_ coming from the back of the house. Turning from the door, she tried to control her breathing as she irrationally ran down the hallway towards the kitchen. The hallway passed by her as if in slow motion. Her feet felt like they were being pulled by invisible hands on the floor.

"Hey, wait!" she heard the stranger call out, but she didn't even acknowledge him.

_Grandma… Balgus… _she thought as the shadow of fear crossed her mind. Her feet pounded their names. _Grandma… Balgus… Grandma… Balgus…_

With a stumble, she turned left and stood at the doorway to the small kitchen. Her feet touched warm liquid where a pool of red was starting to travel into the hallway. Her grandma lay flat on the ground right in front of her. The woman's wrinkled arms spread out, her legs unnaturally bent. The curls of her messy hair were quickly soaking in the blood of her partially missing face. Glancing up, her world was spinning. Balgus was on the table, sputtering at her through bloody lips. A man with white-blond hair was standing at the open back door, a brilliant smile on his face. The man turned towards her, a large gun in his hands.

Suddenly, she felt strong arms grab her from behind, pull her into the hallway, and she hit the floor.

* * *

"Hey, wait!" Van yelled, his heart skipping a beat. Pushing the door all the way open with a steady hand, the black-haired man saw the girl run down a long hallway. He felt his instincts kick in as he hurried through the threshold after her. His heart rate sped up only five paces. His body had become limber and his muscles relaxed. Despite the years out of service, he still had the reflexes of a soldier.

The girl stopped short at her left and stood still at a walkway. Her mouth was open, almost in a trance. _In shock_, Van immediately diagnosed as he ran up beside her. He noticed the blood trailing from the door. He followed his instincts.

"Get down!" he shouted and grabbed her stiff body against him. Pulling her away from the doorway and onto the floor, he heard the familiar repeated pings of bullets firing from a silencer. He shielded her with his body as the bullets whistled through the thin sheet rock walls and stuck in the wooden paneling on the other side of the hallway. There was a breath of silence that followed.

_Get up now! _His mind hollered and he instantly jumped to his feet. Pulling her up by her arms, he held tight on her wrist and raced out of the hallway; fully aware of how easy a target they both were in this particular position. With his free hand, he knocked over an old coat hanger as well as a small shelf standing by the doorway behind them. He felt more than heard the wind pressure of the singing bullets dancing around their bodies. _Get to the truck. Get to the truck. _He repeated in his head. They both ran hard off the porch and he let go of her hand to get the keys from his back pocket. He pressed the unlock button on his keys and she yanked on the handle of his navy pickup.

"Get in!" He shouted unnecessarily. He raced to the driver's side and heard the tell-tale ping of several bullets violently pelting into the side of his vehicle. He dove into the driver's side and heard more thumps. "Duck your head down!" He commanded, grabbing the back of her head and forcing it to her knees. Digging the key into the machine, he pulled it in drive and pressed hard on the gas.

He didn't even flinch as the back window cracked with a striking bullet. Turning a corner in the neighborhood, he ran the stop sign and waved a quick apology to a small car honking at him. _I've got to get out of this neighborhood immediately, _he frowned.

"What… what…" the girl was gasping at her knees. She was indeed the same girl that he'd seen in the picture. Her short hair draped over her pale face. He saw her green eyes wide and staring at her blood-stained bare feet.

"Are you shot?" His breathing was slow and even. Even his voice sounded calm. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

She shook her head slowly. The black-haired man felt a wash of relief come over him. "You can raise your head if you want. Once we get out of this neighborhood, we'll be safe for a while." Flexing his tan fingers over the steering wheel, he stayed quiet while she gradually sat back up against the seat.

"I think I'm going to be sick." She whispered. She closed her green eyes and her skin looked deathly pale.

"I need you to try and breathe as steady as you can. You're in shock." Van said gently as he pushed the gas pedal down even harder. He took a sharp left turn and the wheels squealed. "Keep breathing deeply. If you need to throw up, go ahead. I'll have to get a new vehicle soon anyways. He's bound to track the license plate number on my truck. He's in a cop car."

She made a strange gagging noise and shook her head. "I don't have anything in my stomach to throw up. Did you say a _cop_ is after me?"

He yanked the wheel to the right and bled past another stop sign. "He's in a cop car, but not in uniform. I have no idea what is going on, but it looks like I came right in the nick of time."

The girl – Hitomi – was silent for a moment. "How did you find me? Who are you?"

The black-haired man reached into his pocket and pulled out her picture. "The first guy gave me this. The address – the house you were just at – it's written on the back."

She looked at the photo for several minutes. Waiting for her reply, Van finally wormed his way out of the neighborhood and onto a small FM two lane road. He still didn't like it. He needed a highway. And maybe a new car.

"This was taken last night before I left for the race." She finally murmured. A tear slipped down from her wide green eyes and she wiped it away with a furious hand. She handed him back the picture and he tucked it back in the front pocket of his shirt. The picture belonged more to her than to him, but he kept it anyway. "There wasn't a moon. Grandma was right. Balgus and I… we were fools. They probably figured it out once the Masters were narrowed down. And that means… everything was a total waste of time. And now …" Van didn't think it was possible, but her face grew even paler.

"Don't try to reason it out right now," he said calmly. Nothing she was saying made sense anyway. Wanting to comfort her in some small way, he reached out his hand, gently touched her shoulder, and gave it a small squeeze. She was shivering under his palm. "There are several coats in the back. Put one of those on if you're cold." He put his hand back on the wheel and still felt the warmth of her skin on his fingers. Hitomi nodded and turned to look at the backseat. She fished out his old brown jacket he used at work on cold mornings. Van didn't know why, but he suddenly felt embarrassed.

"That probably doesn't smell too good. I'm in construction and I tend to sweat it in."

"I don't care." She murmured, wrapping the coat around her body. Buckling her seatbelt, she curled herself on the seat facing him. He heard her sniffle and met her wide green eyes staring at him. His embarrassment shift to nervousness. How was it he was able to dodge bullets and react so well to danger, but he could hardly stand to be looked at by a girl? Pathetic.

"Can you talk to me? I don't even know who you are." She whispered, wiping her eyes again with the sleeve of his coat. She looked tiny wrapped in it.

"Likewise," he answered. "The only thing I know about you was on that picture. I don't even know why you are being targeted."

"The races…" her voice was quiet. Van waited for more, but she was silent.

"My name is Van Fanel." He started, turning right onto a northbound frontage. He switched on the blinker to wedge himself onto the freeway. "I'm twenty-seven and I work for Esca Construction Company. You could say I was in the wrong place at the right time." He shot her a small smile and tried to calm his twisting stomach as her green eyes burrowed into his face. "I was at a local pub when I was approached by the man that had your picture. He also gave me fifty thousand dollars and said that the other half would be paid once the job was finished. Not even three minutes after he left, that silver-haired bastard showed up and thought I was the one handing the information and payment. I tried to convince him the deal was off, and even tried paying him with the money I'd gotten. I don't think I did a very good job convincing him. He'd go after you no matter what I said or did. After that, he left and…" he paused and decided not to tell her about his conversation with Millerna, "… and I came to the address. You answered the door."

"Why?" She whispered.

He pressed on the pedal once more and started zipping around the cars on the freeway. He flipped on his headlights. "Why what?"

"Why did you come?" her green eyes were piercing. "Do you realize he'll try to kill you now? This cop guy knows your face."

"Would you believe me if I told you I had nothing better to do this evening?" He grimaced. "Ahem, bad joke, sorry."

"I don't know you. You don't know me. You risked your life for a complete stranger that is targeted for something you have no idea is about. Why would you come to help me?"

Van scratched his nose. "I have my own reasons. Maybe I'll tell you later, maybe not. For now, just believe that I'm here to help you and that I know what I'm doing."

She finally closed her eyes and he felt himself relax. "I trust you. If you wanted to kill me, you would have let that guy do it. If you were a bad person, you wouldn't have come in the first place. So, if you are going to stick around, I need you to take me somewhere."

Van immediately shook his head. "I'm sure anywhere you want to go is where the assassin will be. He's smart and probably has eyes everywhere. It's better to just steer clear of familiar places until we come up with a proper plan."

"I have to see if Allen is okay." She straightened up out of the coat and turned her eyes to the darkening road. "You'll need to turn around on this highway."

"I can't agree to that. Not until I understand what the hell is going on."

"Turn the car around and I'll tell you." She looked at him with a brilliant spark in her eyes. Van was both liked and hated it. She may have spunk, but it turned into a bad thing if she used it against him. He also didn't want to take her anywhere that was probably the most obviously place she'd go next.

But he needed to compromise. Against his better instincts, he said, "Alright, I'll turn around, but I'm not taking you all the way there until I understand what you are being hunted for, get it? And even then, I'll decide if it is safe."

She was silent. Her entire body looked stiff. Finally, she exhaled out of her nose.

"Fine. Start getting over and begin the questions."

"Who is Allen?" Van immediately said. He turned on his blinker, pulled to the right, and got in line to exit the highway.

"Allen was the first one we freed from the collars. Our bikes collided on the field once and we both got thrown. I was okay, but he broke several bones. We decided to take him because he was reacting to the pain. Most pawns are mindless. Anyways, we were afraid for a while that his collar would be traceable and it would detonate if we tried to remove it. As it happened, his collar was defective to begin with. Balgus…" her voice caught, but she took a deep breath and kept going. "Balgus and I were able to spirit him to the hideout. It took about three months of constant work, but he started coming back slowly. It was unbearable to watch his progress, but he turned out to be brilliant. He worked on the functionality of the collars and figured out a way to deactivate their system. That was when we really were solid in the cause of freeing them."

"Wait, wait, wait, this is a lot of information. The cause? What are you talking about?" Van asked confused. Suddenly a lot of things clicked together. "The collars? You mean the motorcycle races that have been going on for the past couple of years? That's what you are in? You know what is happening with that?"

She nodded and sat up even straighter. He saw a flash of strength in her green eyes and a shiver of astonishment ran through him. This girl had some definite courage. Her small fingers grasped at her neck and she pulled off a leather collar with wires on it. He hadn't even noticed her wearing it. "I am a fake 'nap. That's our nickname for the kidnapped. The game calls them 'pawns' and the one that controls the 'pawns' are called 'Masters'. Balgus was my fake Master. I race with the 'naps, but I'm not controlled. I can cause problems and trip the bikes up. It's also good if I try to win a race. Now that many of the Masters have been disqualified, our chances of getting Balgus into the…" She stopped and closed her eyes. "… but Balgus is dead now. So, it doesn't matter anymore." He saw her hands trembling and her grip on the collar tighten so that her knuckles turned white. He resisted the urge to reach out for her. Showing her comfort right now wouldn't help anything. She was trying to hold back her grief and she was right. Now wasn't the time to break down. They needed to concentrate on the next course of action. That meant she needed to keep talking.

"So, you'd sneak into these races and try to trip up the bikes to free the pawns?" He asked, trying to get her back on the subject. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He never even thought once about the races being a part of some secret underground where a criminal lord ruled through brainwashing. It sounded almost too farfetched to be real.

"Yeah," she murmured with her sharp green eyes still closed. "The arena is the best time to take them. It's chaos most of the time. Funny thing is it was actually a fluke that we freed Allen and decided to go that route to free 'naps. Honestly, it never crossed our minds that they could be freed. Ever since then, we've saved two or three almost every race. However, my main job was to help Balgus take down Caesar. We tried every way we could think of to infiltrate his little system and gather information."

"How exactly would you do this? Free people? You had to blend with the motorcyclists, right?"

"This collar is Allen's old one. We rewired it. Balgus would pretend to control me in the arena. Allen and several others we've freed would be watching from a GPS signal I have in my collar. As soon as I saw an opportunity for a crash hit, I'd give off the alert and they'd come rushing in. We got two more last night."

"I watched the news this afternoon." Van said, sliding into the U-turn. He ignored the small voice in his head telling him this was a bad idea. "They said that the survivors kept disappearing."

A small smile hit her lips despite the tense expression on her face. Van made the mistake of looking at her in that moment and the warning signal in his head ceased to function. In fact, a lot of his brain's natural motor skills started acting uncharacteristically wobbly. He felt his heart speed up to an unnaturally pace. His palms begun to sweat. Frowning, he grasped the steering wheel harder than he needed to. _What is the matter with me?_ He asked himself with frustration. His mahogany eyes slid back over to her wrapped in his thick jacket and he knew immediately he needed a distraction to get his mind back on track.

"What made you get into this?" She gave him a questioning look. "The games. This overthrowing of an underground criminal lord and motorcycling through the streets." He clarified. "I can't believe you just suddenly jumped into this without any other causes."

"Balgus is…" she paused again and bit her lip. "…_was _the leader of our resistance. He always knew the political system of this city was corrupted. He kept his reasons to himself as to how he got into this mess. Me, on the other hand, I've always been a bit of a renegade when it came to following the rules. Balgus helped me." Van watched her brush her cheek from the corner of his eye. "My grandma never liked him, but he was a good man. I agreed to help him however I could. He really saved my life back then…"

The black-haired man's was quiet for a moment until he knew she had settled down a bit more. "How many survivors have you rescued?"

She sighed. "Even _I _don't know the exact amount. The ones we freed after Allen can take care of themselves and the others, but they have no memories. We are able to keep the 'naps relatively comfortable in a private orphanage on the remote outskirts of Austuria. The 'naps can be treated in peace and are tenderly cared for. Even so, most of the 'naps are mentally disfigured from the collars; they kind of lose the will to live. We've lost over ten just this past year. It's horrible. The volunteer nuns are saints. They keep our entire operation a secret as well. Several have even begun started looking for families to return them home. For a while, we worried if our base was too obvious, but as the years passed we realized this was the perfect hiding place. The police can't enter the establishment without written permission from the Mayor and we can see the entire dirt road leading to the building from a third-story window on the right. It is watched practically twenty-four/seven."

"Then they should be fine without you."

"But they won't have any warning!"

"So, you want to warn them? Why not call?"

"Didn't bring my cell."

"And I threw away my phone because the assassin has probably already traced it." Van answered his own question with a sigh.

She nodded. "I have to alert the nuns to evacuate. They will know what to do. I can't just run away and leave them for slaughter. Especially the 'naps. They just got a second chance at life. I cannot do that to them. I cannot..." She turned to him and pierced him once more with those bright green eyes. He felt her sharp gaze like little pinpricks on his face. "Please, Mr. Fanel. This is to save lives. How could I live with myself? You should understand my feelings. You saved my life in risk of your own."

Van was quiet. Racing down the highway in the opposite direction, he swallowed down the rising warnings. His instincts yelled at him to stop. Turn around. Don't go that way.

He made another mistake.

He looked into her eyes again.

"I'll do it." He said quietly. "And please, call me Van."

* * *

_BEEEP – You have three new messages – First message – "Hey, Tomi... Tomi… Tomi… I have something to tell you, but you're not going to believe it. I need you to see me soon. Okay? Okay. It's okay. It's all okay. The dark in this room is okay. The 'nap is really having a tough time, but I don't want you to meet him because then he might like you and I don't like that… I mean, I do… I mean… Tomi?... Please, come see me… k'bye!"_

_-End of message - To erase this message, press 7. To save it, press 9._

The silver-haired man smirked. Looking at the cellphone, he pressed 9.

_Your message is saved – next message – "I'm waiting still… Why didn't you call me back, Tomi? I'm sitting here at the orphanage… It's lonely here without you… Wait. I didn't mean that. I didn't mean for it to sound… I mean, I don't care if you come… I'll watch the dirt road. The 'nap is awake now. Sister Merle told me he'll be in and out for a while. I shouldn't be on the phone…The sisters are going to get mad when they see me, so I better go… Please, come see me…k'bye!"_

_-End of message - To erase this message, press 7. To save it, press 9._

Nudging through the yellow satchel, Dilandau pressed 9 once more. Standing up from the kitchen chair, he glanced down with bored eyes at the prone bodies lying before him.

_Your message is saved - next message - "I know that I just called you, but the 'nap is saying all this stuff and you reeeeaaallly need to hear it! I want to see your face when you hear what he says. He knows who Caesar is! He knows everything! You gotta come now, Tomi! He will save us all because he had a collar just like mine! I got in trouble with the sisters because I kept yelling, but that was only because I'm so excited and I know that you need to come hear it, too! I don't want you to listen too much though because then he might start to like you... Not that I care about that... You know where the orphanage is? On FM 120? Of course, you know where it is! _(There was a loud thudding noise)_ I just hit my head with the door because I'm so stupid to say that. I... I miss you... Please, come see me... k'bye!"_

He tossed the phone and drew up his own mini-computer. Whistling a happy tune, he casually flipped in the coordinates.

Not too long now...

* * *

"This is where it is?" Van asked skeptically as he turned onto a dirt road off another unsettling FM road. The tall trees lined the dark pathway, some leaning so far that they brushed the top of his navy truck. His bad feeling skyrocketed as his left wheel hit a pot hole and Hitomi let out small squeal.

"Sorry about that! I forgot to warn you about the holes in the road."

Van sighed. _Curse her eyes_, he thought bitterly. _Who knew I was such a sucker?_

"The orphanage is further back. You'll know when you see it." She started unbuckling her seatbelt and Van frowned.

"I'll go in," the black-haired man said swiftly. "Just in case the assassin is there. I want you to stay in the truck where it's safe. If I don't come out in three minutes, you'll need to drive away as fast as you can. And if you do, make sure to find a deserted place and try to pick up another vehicle. Maybe I should have told you how to hotwire a car."

The girl exhaled out of her mouth and blew her bangs off her forehead. "Look, Mr. Fanel-"

"Van," he immediately corrected.

"_Van_," she emphasized. "I appreciate you saving my life and risking yours to protect me, but you can't _stop_ me from going in there. These people are my _friends_. I can't just wait here like some damsel in distress."

_Damsel in distress, you are not. _He thought giving her a sideways glance. _You cried for about twenty minutes for people who just died right in front of you. Somehow you've forced __**me**__ of all people to drive you right into danger once more. Probably right into the assassin's hands. You're crazy, but you are no damsel in distress._

"There it is!" She shouted, startling Van slightly. He looked out his windshield and noticed a large, three-story building emerging from the tall trees like a silent giant. There were only several lights on in the upper windows. The black-haired man glanced at the clock. Ten past eight.

They either had a very early bedtime or he had just made a dreadful mistake.

"Is it usually this dark here?" He asked pulling the car around to the front. The building reeked with ominous foreboding. To his surprise, Hitomi nodded.

"They like to keep it dark. For some reason, bright light really sets off the anxiety in newly freed 'naps. I wonder if Allen's been able to take care of the collars from last night. He told me they were a newer model from what he was used to, so it might have taken him a while."

Van pulled the truck into park and she opened the door. He reached out and caught the arm of the jacket as she was trying to leave. She looked at him questioningly.

"Trust me when I say that this is a bad idea, Miss Kanzaki. I have good instincts and they are all telling me to run away from this place right now. I want you to stay behind me at all times. If the assassin shows up, promise me you will do _exactly _what I say when I say it. Don't question. Just do. Got it?"

Their eyes locked together. He saw the swirls of emotions flashing through her mind. Her green eyes tightened. She nodded. Van let her go and climbed out of the driver's side. Leading the way to the front door, he felt a small, cold hand grab his fingers and he jumped in surprise.

"Not through the front. There's a side entrance. That's the door I usually take. It's this way." She pulled him to the left, her bare feet crunching the blades of grass. He followed obediently wondering why he was unable to say a word back.

She led him to a dark wooden door just around the long building. Van gently pulled her behind him, let go of her hand, and reached into the back of his jeans for the pistol. Her eyes widened.

"Don't bring that out!" she hissed. "The poor 'naps will go crazy!"

"If they are even alive…" the black-haired man whispered back, giving her a frown. He watched her purse her lips, but look away.

As Van reached to knock on the door, it opened wildly and hit him square in the face. He almost fell to the ground. Catching himself on the wall, he held his hrobbing nose as a tall, long-haired man ran like a blur out the door and swept up Hitomi into his arms.

"TOMI, TOMI, TOMI, TOMI!" The man was spinning her around, her feet dangling off the ground.

"Allen! You scared me! Put me down!"

Van straightened up and tried to blink the tears out of his eyes as Allen let go of her and her feet fell safely on the grassy ground. "We've been waiting for you! The collars are off! I did it! I'm the best! The sisters are tending to their wounds right now, but one of them is like _me_!"

Van watched Hitomi blink in surprise. "He's like you? You mean, he remembers who his Master was? He remembers-"

"He remembers EVERYTHING!" Allen announced happily, grabbing her hand and tugging her into the building. "You have _got _to talk to him!"

"Hold on, Allen. Wait a second." She gently removed the taller man's grip on her hand and looked up at Van. "Are you okay, Mr. Fanel? You got hit pretty hard with the door." She walked towards him with pure concerned on her smooth face. Despite the back of his brain still urging to leave the area, Van's entire attention was on the look she was giving him. He saw from the corner of his eye Allen give him an undeniable scowl. He smiled meekly – his hand leaving his aching nose - and nodded. He was surprised as she reached out and gently touched his shoulder. The cold from her fingers went through his shirt. Her green eyes traveled down to the gun in his hand.

"Please, put the weapon away." She whispered. "I'll tell the sisters to begin evacuation, but I cannot have the poor freed 'naps getting upset. It will be hard enough without them freaking out over the gun, okay? I'll hear what this new one remembers and then I promise we will leave."

He sighed and couldn't explain the mild disappointment running with the relief of leaving soon.

"Let's go in, then." He said, trying to keep the expression off his face. "And please, call me Van."

Van followed Hitomi and Allen inside and shut the door behind him with a careful 'click'. Keeping a tan hand close to his back where the gun was tucked away, his mahogany eyes switched from corner to corner. The darkness wasn't as encompassing as he thought it would be. Van realized with relief that he could see quite easily. Allen led the way through another wooden door and they all entered a long hallway. Small lights were attached to the bottom of the walls along every other door allowing for plenty of light to see by. The dark wooden panels along the walls held pictures of various smiling children. A long, purple, walkway carpet spread all the way down to the end. Suddenly, a shadowed figure emerged from several doors down. Van reached back for the weapon, but he froze at the sound of the voice.

"My dear Hitomi, is that you? What brings you here so late at night? Allen hasn't been playing with the phone line again, right?"

"Sister Merle Margaret! Just the person I wanted to see!" the short-haired girl sounded relieved as she brushed passed Allen and met the human shape waiting for her. Van tried to walk with her, but Allen's long arm snaked out and blocked his way. The taller man had the same scowl on his face from before.

"Who are you?" He asked, his blue eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Hitomi never brings anyone but collared 'naps, Grandma Nina, or Balgus."

Van cleared his throat for a moment and thought quickly. "I'm going to be… riding the motorcycles like she does... She was just going to show me around. I'll be saving the 'naps from today on. So, please," he nodded politely at Allen, "take care of me."

The blond man's face remained skeptical, but he raised his arm enough for Van to duck underneath and continue to where Hitomi was whispering.

"…get them out as soon as you can. I'll speak to the new 'nap, but you must start evacuating."

"Good God in heaven," the nun breathed. Her hand had flown to her chest. "They're _dead_? Balgus and Nina…"

"Please, Merle," Hitomi grabbed the nun's robed shoulders. "He's could be here any minute. Get all the sisters together. Get the 'naps out now." She suddenly hugged the woman tightly. Letting her go with a nod, she turned to Allen – who immediately stood straight and beamed at her.

"Take me to the 'nap."

"This way," the blond smirked at Van as he continued down the hall. Van trailed behind still watching the shadows.

* * *

**End of Part 1! Part 2 will be up hopefully this next week. But I do have a bit happening coming up. I'm leaving for Illinois to see my sister for five days. I'll try to write like a fiend. This was a long section, so I hope you'll forgive me if it takes a couple of days. **

**Thanks for reading! Be excited about Part 2! Once again a big thank you to Nai for helping me create more clarifying scenes and fixing up some major sentence structure issues. **

**Questions, confusions, irritations? I'll only know if you type them below. :) I appreciate everyone even click on this to read it. Thank you!**

**blue...**


	2. The Chase

**Well, folks, it looks like it will be a three parter. It just was longer than orginially thought. And I kept adding fun little spots. And by fun little spots, I mean fluffy romance moments. lol! To be honest, the story needed them... and they were really fun to write, so I said to myself, "What the hell? I want to write it, so they'll probably enjoy it, too."**

**What am I talking about? Go read for yourself! :) ps: I think I love Allen in my story. But only as a little brother. ;) Also, if you see any mistakes that I didn't catch, let me know pronto! I hate seeing problems in my stories. Yuck!**

* * *

Hitomi panted as she jogged down the shaded hallway of the orphanage; following Allen's tall silhouette. Her senses felt as if they were on overdrive. She could see every passing shadow, taste the tingling quiet air, smell the rich birch wood of the antique furniture, and even hear Mr. Fanel's deep, steady breathing from several steps behind her.

_Mr. Fanel…_

An odd feeling rushed through her. She didn't know what to make of him. He'd come into her life like a medieval knight; saving her from certain death, and vowing to keep her safe. She shook her head slightly and bit her bottom lip. Would Mr. Fanel be willing to help her bring Caesar down? How far would he go to keep her safe?

Obviously he was willing to go pretty far. Even so far as to entering the orphanage alone and demand she remained in the truck for her own safety. Remembering the calm way he acted as he drove out of her neighborhood, Hitomi had a strong feeling that there was definitely more to this man than she'd originally thought. He obviously worked in construction from his clothes and the equipment in the back of his truck, but there was an aura about him – the way he moved, the way he spoke, and even the way his dark eyes solemnly faced the impending danger. He was steady. Firm. Solid.

Just who was he…?

Racing up the familiar steps that circled to the second floor, the short-haired girl swallowed down her curiosity. _Not now. Not now. _She forced herself to get a grip. Her eyes narrowed and she focused on Allen's long swinging blond hair in front of her. _Later…_

"He's through here, Tomi." Allen's cheerful voice echoed back to her as the blond man practically skipped through an open doorway. Above the door frame, a large, white poster with unicorn stickers was duck taped to the wall blaring the words, "Allen's lab! Keep out!" written in spicy green marker. Entering the semi dark room, she saw that most of the usual equipment had been pushed to the side to make way for two heavily bandaged figures lying on white beds in the middle of the floor. One of them was a woman with the collar still on. A strange machine with turning wheels and a computer screen was making an odd chirping noise next to her. She was still, her eyes closed. Allen immediately zeroed in on the machine and pressed several buttons on its blinking screen. It began printing out a long piece of paper. The 'nap on the other cot was collar-free with Mother Superior sitting by his side. His body was thin and longer than the bed. His feet dangling off. The abbess stroked his wavy black hair with gentle fingers. He was obviously in better condition than the other one.

"Her vital signs are stabilizing, but it looks as though this 'nap's in for a rough one." Allen's usual childish voice had gotten serious. "The wires connected to her heart were easily removed, so at least it won't explode. I'm not sure the machine can handle deactivation without causing more damage to her brain. I'll keep working the program. Maybe I can counterattack the shock in her cerebellum."

"Allen, which one has the memory?" Hitomi asked, keeping her voice low. The blond man pointed a thumb to the man and she felt instantly relieved.

"He's the one. The collar came right off without a glitch."

"Is he awake?" Van inquired as he stepped inside from the hallway. Allen's head jerked up and he scowled ferociously at Van.

"I have a sign on the door. Don't you know how to read?" The blond man cocked his hip and pursed his lips like a pouting child.

"He's staying, Allen," Hitomi gave him a scolding look.

"But-"

"No 'buts'."

Allen's pale face folded into a sulking expression and he turned back to read the printing paper.

The abbess – who had an old, kind face – nodded to Hitomi and stood up. The short-haired girl exhaled slowly and walked closer to the bed. Gently touching the nun's robed arm as she passed, she said quietly so Allen wouldn't hear, "Mother Superior, we've been discovered by Caesar. As soon as we are done talking with this man, please pack him up with the rest of the 'naps and move him to the hiding place."

"I-I…" the older nun took a step back and her shoulders fell, "I knew it couldn't last forever. Does everyone else know? How long do we have to evacuate?"

"I've informed Sister Merle. She's taking care of the rest. Start packing up. Leave as soon as you are ready."

"My children are in the room next door. I'll bring some clothes out for you once we are done packing. You probably don't want to wander around in pajama shorts and an oversized jacket right?"

Hitomi glanced down at her outfit and smiled shyly.

"You will change into that after you are done talking. God be with you, child." The head nun stepped forward to put her warm hand on Hitomi's short head.

"God bless you, Head Mother. Be safe and be quick."

As the abbess left the room, Hitomi turned her green eyes onto the sick man. His black hair was glued to his pale skin with sweat. His white nightgown stuck to his shivering body. He was obviously suffering from a high fever. She hoped he wasn't too delirious to answer questions. His head twitched and he cracked a navy eye open.

"Can you tell me who you are?" She asked putting her hand delicately on his moist forehead. Her hands were still cold, but he felt like he was on fire.

"Gadeth… Justinas…" he whispered back to her hesitantly. He groaned and shifted his bandaged arm on the bed. "I know who you are… you're a pawn like me…I've seen you on the track…"

Hitomi blinked and swallowed down her surprise. "You know who I am? How-"

"The races… you were always there… I remember last night, too… You caused the wreck… I remember everything… Why can I talk now?" His navy eyes slowly circled the room. "The woman said I am in some kind of safe house."

"We pulled you from the wreck last night. Your collar has been removed. That's what kept you from being able to control your body. I'll have Allen or the sisters explain exactly what is happening later, but first I need you to answer some questions. This is very important. Can you handle that for me?"

The man groaned again and gave a pain-filled nod. Hitomi saw a tan hand reach out from behind her and touch the man's arm. She frowned in confusion as Van pressed his thumb gently on the skin of Gadeth's wrist and rotated slowly on the crease of his palm. Instantly, the fevered man's tight body began to relax and his breathing became smoother. Glancing back at Van questioningly, she caught his bright mahogany eyes looking sadly at the man. He caught her gaze, nodded, and gave her a small lopsided smile.

Turning back to Gadeth, she asked, "Who was your Master?"

"Jackson… Nicolas Jackson…." His navy eyes were getting a little clearer. Van's thumb kept pressing into fevered man's wrist. Hitomi made a mental note to ask about that later.

"He's a registered Master for the games and the Head Justice for the Austurian Judicial Branch." Hitomi said with a confirming nod. "Your memories might be exactly what I need to bring Caesar down."

"I told you, Tomi." The blond man said calmly. He was fiddling with some wires connected to the computer, but he had his blue eyes on Gadeth. "He remembers everything. Even more than me."

"What do you know?" Hitomi asked immediately.

The man blinked slowly and turned his head to the ceiling. "I remember, but… I don't know much. I'm not sure how much help I will be."

"Please," Hitomi felt her heart beat skyrocketing in anticipation. "Anything you know will be helpful."

"I knew what was happening around me most of the time." He kept his face up and never speaking directly at the three listening to his every word. "I knew what he was doing and who he was and what he'd do… to me… I understood why he was angry or happy. I just couldn't control my body. My mind was trapped."

"Your collar was defaulted before they even strapped you in it. You're lucky." Hitomi murmured. "What did he do to you?"

"At the beginning, I was only used for the races. But then, after almost a year as his pawn, I graduated to his personal assistant, his bodyguard, his confident… I still served as the pawn in the games, but I grew more valuable to him… sometimes… sometimes… I was his lover…" Gadeth's weak voice choked and he gave a shudder of disgust, "…Especially when his temper rose… and…God… he'd hurt me…I could never say anything… I was trapped in there…" he moved his trembling hand and grabbed Van's fingers tightly. She glanced back at the black-haired man and saw that his mouth had dropped open slightly. "Thank God for all of you… thank God you saved me… I never want to go back. I'd rather be dead than back in that collar… I am finally free…"

"I should have saved you sooner. I'm sorry." Hitomi whispered to him as tears spilled out of the man's feverish eyes. "Please, tell me what he's told you about Caesar. What do you know?"

Gadeth shook his head and sobs racked his weak body. "I… I c-can't…I just want to sleep and never wake up again…"

"We have saved many people over the past few years, but you are the only one who has kept your memory from the collars. I know this is difficult, but please try. I promise you…" She looked at his sweating face tenderly. "I'll do everything in my power to take all of the Masters down with him."

There was a minute of Gadeth's broken sobs turning into gasping sighs. Finally, he murmured, "He used to rant and rave about the pile of cases Caesar kept giving him to handle. If he was able to subdue the witnesses and eventually rule in favor for the case, I was always fed, bought new clothes, and used however he wanted. When he couldn't win the case - no matter how much he black-mailed, cheated, and lied - I was starved, neglected, beaten. He's lost four cases for Caesar since I was strapped in the collar and bought by him. Several lawyers that are in league with Jackson are Masters as well and work under him. They began using their pawns like he was using me. Like bodyguards as well as race in the games. Anyways, they would get the verbal abuse of his temper when he lost a case. I would get the physical abuse… I both thanked and hated God every time he won a case. I would live to see another day, but it would be another victory for him. I would be fed, but it was one step further from being free… And the process would continue…"

"Why was he participating in the games if he was already powerful enough to handle Caesar's dirty work? It sounds like he was already in the inner circle and would know Caesar's identity." Hitomi reasoned quietly. "He never told you?"

Gadeth shook his head and more tears ran down the sides of his pale face. Allen – who had stopped reading the whirling machine long ago – grabbed a tissue from a box in the corner and handed it to Hitomi. She smiled sadly and began wiping the man's cheeks gently. Gadeth continued, his voice still breaking. "He never said a word even though I was under the collar. He always used Caesar's nickname even with his lawyers. I know he knows his name, but I never heard it…"

"Where is the judge now? Do you know where he lives?"

"He… He lives at…" Gadeth brows furrowed. "I… can't remember…"

Allen's tongue clicked. "It looks as though the collar did do some damage."

"Am I going to be okay?" The weak man whispered, his navy eyes turning to her in fear. The short-haired girl gave Allen a disapproving look and the blond man's face turned to shame.

"You'll be alright. We'll figure it out. You just need time to rest."

"I'm… I'm sorry…"

Letting go of the tissue, she leaned forward and pressed her small palm on the side of the man's face kindheartedly. "Do not apologize. You have been so very helpful to us, Mr. Justinas. We are going to be moving to a new place soon, so be ready. Do you want me to call a sister back in for you?"

Gadeth nodded and reached up to squeeze the back of her hand lightly with his trembling fingers. "Thank you," he breathed. Closing his navy eyes, more tears spilled down. "Thank you, thank you, thank you…"

"Hitomi, it's time to move them. Are you done?" The Mother Superior spoke from behind her at the doorway. She had folded jeans and a t-shirt in her arms. The short-haired girl could feel Allen and Van's eyes on her face. Slowly, she removed her hand from the side of Gadeth's face and he let out a small whimper.

Turning around, she glanced up into the black-haired man's mahogany eyes. The sad yet hopeful expression on his tan face matched her feelings perfectly. They now knew one person who was confirmed to know Caesar's true identity… But how to get that information…?

"Hitomi!" Merle's familiar voice echoed down the hallway. "Are you in Allen's lab?"

"She's right here, Sister Merle. You know better than to yell in the hallway." The Mother scolded.

"An unknown vehicle has just pulled off 120! It looks like a cop car!"

"Shit!" Van cursed and either didn't notice or ignored the disapproving frowns that popped on all three women's faces. Behind them in the room Allen giggled and whispered, "He said a naughty word…"

"Ms. Kanzaki, he'll recognize the truck! We've got to get out of here!" Hurrying, the black-haired man grabbed Hitomi's hand with a firm grip and proceeded to pull her.

"But I can't just leave!"

"We have a lead based on Gadeth's clue. We'll find this Jackson guy's records in the Court House and see if that will give us Caesar's name. But first, we gotta live."

The short-haired girl felt her heart seize in her chest. She tried to push down the burning in her green eyes. This was all too much. She couldn't lose the sisters, the 'naps… everything she'd worked so hard for.

_Balgus and grandma_…

"Is this the one that's after you?" Merle asked in alarm, panting up to them. "But it's a police officer!"

"Satan comes in all shapes and sizes, sister." the Mother said solemnly.

Stopping short from the doorway, Hitomi tugged on Van's warm grip on her hand. "I can't leave! They are in danger!"

The Head Mother turned to Hitomi. She held out the clothes and the short-haired girl took them with her free hand. "Go on, child. Don't worry about us. God's path is never easy to travel, but with faith and love, good always prevails. Leaving us tonight might not look like guidance now, but the Lord's hand is in all things. He uses us to fulfill His purposes. And if our coven's purpose is to enter His kingdom tonight, then we will meet again in the afterlife." With a small smile appearing on her aged face, she nodded.

A sob escaped her throat. Van's hand tugged on her and she let him guide her swiftly down the hallway and down the stairs.

"Hurry, Ms. Kanzaki!" Van hissed. "We have to get you out of here!"

It felt like hours, but it must have just been only a handful of minutes. Van pulled her down the stairs and through the hallway. The doors all the way down the hallway were open. Many of the 'naps stood muttering to themselves and wandering around like loss sheep. Others were screaming loudly and crying. Practically all the sisters were attempting to contain the chaos and form them in a line. Hitomi noticed the secret passageway through the wall had been opened. She knew from practice drills that the pathway led to stairs and eventually the basement. Another door through the basement took them to a large waterway system. Once they were in there, they'd be alright. The sisters knew what to do…

Glancing at the familiar faces around her – 'naps and nuns alike – she felt like crying.

One of the 'naps sat in the middle of the floor, moaning and rocking his body in a fetal position. Van ran around him without hesitation.

"They won't make it." Hitomi called to him, desperately forcing herself to run. Every fiber in her bone called out to save them. To help them. He didn't answer, but - as if he could read her thoughts - his hand tightened on hers, squeezing her fingers together. She couldn't pull away if she wanted to.

She ran out the side door with him and around the building to the truck. She could already see the headlights of the cop car through the trees.

"Hurry!" Van whispered urgently, picking up speed. He let go of her and clicked open the truck with his keys. As she leaped into the passenger's side, the headlights flashed across the building.

"He's here, Mr. Fanel!"

He jammed the key into the ignition just as a huge thump hit the bed of the truck. Without a moment's indecision, the black-haired man slammed the gas down and the wheels slid a bit on the grass lawn.

"Where's another way to get out?" He asked at her, swinging the vehicle around the orphanage's side and out of view. He checked behind him and inwardly groaned. The cop car's headlights were brightening.

He was following.

"Through that patch of trees!" Hitomi yelled buckling her seatbelt. Swerving ferociously onto a partially hidden dirt pathway, Van hit the accelerator.

"Be careful! It's a very-"

Her words were cut short as a squeal erupted out of her mouth. Van had barely made a ninety degree turn to the left. His truck was so close to grazing a tree, Hitomi could have sworn she heard the bark pealing off.

"Is he following?" The black-haired man asked his voice low and cool. She looked at him incredulously. His body was completely relaxed despite his hands jerking the steering wheel aggressively left and right.

"How in God's name are you so calm right now?"

"Is he following?" He repeated with a more stern tone. She looked behind them and everything was dark. Only the trees passing them by. Suddenly, a hint of long blond hair hit her eye…

"Allen!" Hitomi screamed. "Allen's in the bed of the truck!"

"What?" Van frowned and looked back quickly. "What is he doing there?"

"You think I know?" She shouted. "We've got to get him in the truck. He can't stay out there."

"I'm not stopping till I know we are safe."

"But Allen-"

"He'll be fine."

"Hi, Tomi!" Allen's cheerful face appeared in the cracked rear window. His blond hair billowed out around his head like a patriotic flag. He gave her a happy wave. Through the trees behind his head, she saw familiar headlights flashing through the low branches.

"I see his car coming! He's still following."

"Hang on…" Van announced grimly and swiveled around another sharp corner. Hitomi pressed her head against the headrest on the seat and closed her eyes. Gripping the bottom of her seat with white knuckles, she bit back her screams as the vehicle continually jerked right and left.

She prayed Allen would be okay.

* * *

Dilandau's teeth were grinding behind his perpetual smile and he actually flinched as his car's wheels spun dangerously off the dirt road. He could barely make out the navy hint of the speeding truck in front of him. He knew this was probably a fruitless chase, but no matter. Dilandau _loved _playing cat and mouse.

Like a good feline, he specialized in pouncing on his prey unexpectedly. The mice could scamper into their little hole in the wall. He'd wait, his tail twitching in expectation. They'll emerge soon enough. Meanwhile, he'd find where they were headed and get there first. His grin widening, he slowed his speed down. Lady Luck always shinned on the silver-haired man. No matter whom the target, he'd always win the chase. He pressed the brake further and blinked lazily as the truck's red headlights swiveled out of view.

Turning around, the silver-headed man backed up and maneuvered the car back to the orphanage.

Maybe someone there could give him a few pointers.

* * *

Mother Superior fervently prayed in her head as she urged the last few 'naps through the hole in the wall. Only a handful of the sisters remained to check through every door. Down the way, Merle Margaret watched the window from behind a curtain.

The abbess' heart was racing, her palms were sweating. She felt her adrenaline pulsing through her thin body as she supported the arm of another 'nap while they stepped through the opening. It was easy to say that God's will was in all things. If tonight meant the death of herself or her orphanage then she'd have to accept it. The heavens always had a plan for good.

But, she was afraid. Despite all the teachings of self-sacrifice, despite the gift she knew to be received in heaven for her good works and faith, she was still human. And therefore, she still feared for her life.

Only three more 'naps were still loitering about, one lying on the floor eagle spread, the other two shaking in fear against the wood-paneled walls. Most of the nuns were taking care of crowd control inside the basement.

Two sisters came running from the stairs. "It's all clear, "one of them announced. "We are the only ones left on both the second and third story."

"Get these last three in! Quickly!" The abbess pointed and the nuns sprung into action, dragging the two standing towards the hole.

"Mother Superior!" Merle shouted, her young voice echoing down the hallway. "He's coming! What do we do? The officer's car is pulling up to the front!"

The old woman's heart rose to her throat. Her wizened eyes glanced around the orphanage. Sister Merle ran forward and dropped to the prone 'nap's side. She heard the soft-spoken nun coaxing the heavily brain-damaged person up off the floor. The Mother finished guiding the last two 'naps in with a trembling hand and turned to help the struggling sister.

"Get him up, Merle! We need to seal the door!" Mother Superior commanded. The younger sister had lifted the 'nap's shoulders and was trying to support his heavy weight with her small body. He started screaming and kicking at her; his arms and legs flailing wildly.

"It's no good, Mother!" Merle moaned as her cap was knocked off her head. Her unusual bright red hair looked pink in the evening light. "He's upset."

"Let's get him in." The abbess grunted as she grabbed a swinging hand. "Up we go, young man." At her touch, the 'nap's wails became softer. He grew limp in their arms. The older woman supported more of the weight and together, they dragged him to the hole.

"Go with him, I'll seal it." Her voice cracked, betraying her inner fear. Merle stepped through and grabbed his underarms. The Mother lifted his feet to push him in.

Merle's dark eyes glimmered as she pulled on the heavy body. "What are you talking about?"

"Someone always has to seal the door from the outside, remember? Go now, sister! I'm sure he's already coming." She put her shaking, cold hand on the small handle that blended with the wood paneling.

"You're not coming with us?"

"Follow your sisters to the waterway system. Make sure no 'naps are left behind. This is your duty."

"I won't leave you, Mother Superior! You have to come!"

"The rest is up to you, Merle Margaret. Please, when you see Hitomi, tell her that I love her and that she was sent from God to save these people." A rebellious tear escaped down the Mother's eye and she let it trail down her cheek. "Go!"

As Merle opened her mouth, the abbess tugged on the handle and a fake part of the wall slid over the hole, shutting the younger nun in. The simple sound of the wood gliding into place put the old woman at ease.

She'd saved her children. She'd saved her coven.

* * *

"So, where are we going?" Allen chirped happily from the back seat. Van bit his lip and prayed for patience. His seat gave another hard but noiseless _thump_ as Allen kicked the back of it for the fourth time.

The road was dark and empty. Van checked his rearview mirror and watched Hitomi from the side of his eye. She was twisting the fabric on the t-shirt the Mother Superior had given her. She looked deep in thought.

"I'll be taking you somewhere safe." Van answered Allen, who scowled. "I have friends who can take care of you for the time being. You should have stayed at the orphanage."

"I'm _going_ with Tomi, you _stranger_." The blond man announced. "Don't tell me what to do! I don't want to meet any _friend _of yours! Hitomi always had me help her. I have waited all day to see her and now you want me to go somewhere else. I don't have to listen to anything you say!"

"It isn't safe, Allen." Hitomi said quietly, still looking deep in thought. "I want you to be safe."

Allen's mouth opened as if to spout off another retort and he immediately closed it with a snap. Catching Van's mahogany eye in the rearview mirror, he shot him a smug look. "You want me to be safe? You always think about me first, don't you? I guess you like me that much, huh?"

"Of course, Allen." the girl finally smiled and turned around to look at the blond man. "You're like my brother."

Van almost snorted. Allen's pale face dropped and the smirk was wiped from his lips. He kicked the back of Van's seat once more.

"Speaking of, where do you have planned to take him?" the short-haired girl asked, turning back to Van. "You said you have some friends?"

"One of them knows what's going on to an extent. She'll be alright with taking care of him. Her husband…" Van glanced back at Allen once more and saw the man had crossed his long arms in an obvious huff. "He'll hopefully still be at work. I'm sure they'll let me borrow their car. The cop has probably tracked my license number. Other police will be alerted if they see it."

"These friends of yours sound awfully generous." Hitomi frowned thoughtfully. "Are you sure this is okay?"

Van smiled furtively. "Let's just say they owe me."

* * *

Clenching her teeth, Mother Superior tried to stop the tears running down her wrinkled eyes. She made herself focus on the moonlight shimmering through the windows. It casted the curtains' shadows over the cot she was currently strapped to. Ignoring the pain in her aged joints, she prayed feverishly for strength, courage, stamina… and deliverance.

"I've asked so many questions, sister, and yet you love to play stupid. I guess it's true that they'll let anyone be a nun. Whores, thieves, liars, mutes." The albino man spat out each word as if they were poisonous. His footsteps paced the room, but the abbess turned her head away from him. "I know you can talk. It's just a matter of finding the right way. Sometimes it's a gentle nudge, occasionally it's a thin prick of a knife, but mostly it's time. And unfortunately for me, I don't have time. My contractors are already wondering where the girl's head is." He let out a good-natured laugh. "I certainly can't bring them _your_ ugly mug, now can I?"

_God give me strength. God give me strength. Father, deliver me from evil._

"It's a good thing I'm a believer. I'd love to slice this thin neck of yours all the way through." She felt a blade stroke the top of her throat and almost cringed at the piercing bite of its sharp edge as it sliced a bit of her skin. She shivered as warm blood pooled out onto the white cot. "I wouldn't want to anger Jesus because I killed his wife and be sent to hell, would I? No, no, no, hell is some place for bad people. I only do good. Only good things…"

She heard him walk further into the corner and start rummaging through something. "You won't talk with nudging or knife pricking… I guess it's time for round three."

A small clinking of glass made her turn to look at what he was doing. He dropped a small satchel on the bed next to her and was holding a small bottle with light blue liquid inside. The albino man swirled the liquid and stood up to walk over to her with a happy smile. He tossed a black air-mask on the bed next to her arm and leaned in close.

"Do you know what this is?" His unnatural red eyes caught the moonlight. They gleamed at her devilishly. There was a pause and Mother Superior remained silent. The man's grin lowered a bit and he reached to her neck. She gave a loud, strangled cry as he ripped and stretched the cut further apart his strong finger and thumb. "Of course, you don't. What was I thinking? How impolite of me to ask you something that you obviously don't know. But, there is something you do know. And guess what? This little baby will get it out of you."

Still crying, the abbess shook her head slowly.

The assassin laughed. "Oh, yes! Yes, it will. You just wait and see, sister. You'll love it. You'll love it so much you'll tell me every thing I want to hear." He swirled the small bottle in front of her face. She wished she had the strength to raise her head and try to knock it out of his hands. Pulling on her bonded limbs, she knew it was fruitless.

"This is a newly altered version of truth serum. They told me it has ethanol, scopolamine, and a good dose of hypnotic variants that I won't bore you with by describing. I just know it _works_." He chuckled again. "And the best part about it. I don't have to pry your mouth open or any of that nonsense." He set the bottle on her stomach and started putting on the air mask. His voice was muffled through the long vent. He looked like an actual monster. Red eyes, wild silver hair…

A devil.

"You'll inhale it."

_Father, forgive me. Father, deliver me. Father, save me._

"Then you'll tell me everything I want to know."

_Father, into your hands. Into your hands. Take my spirit._

The silver-haired man reached and plucked the bottle smoothly. He unscrewed the lid.

_It is finished._

* * *

"You want me to what now?" Millerna stuck one blond eyebrow up as Allen bounced his bottom up and down on her couch with a giggle. Hitomi sat next to Van on the comfy love seat and felt combination of embarrassment and shyness. Her green eyes studied the beautiful woman up and down. She was suddenly very aware of her wrinkled t-shirt and baggy jeans.

"I need you to take care of him." Van repeated with a nod. "I've got something I need to handle."

"That's what you said last time." The blond woman frowned charmingly. "And you need me for a babysitting job? Are you going to explain what is going on?"

"Briefly."

"I'm not a baby! I'm Allen!" The childish man smiled brightly and tilted his head near Millerna. She leaned away. "You're preautiful! That's a combination of 'pretty' and 'beautiful'. Hitomi's preautiful too, but in a different way." He bounced again and slid closer to the blond woman in doing so.

"Okay, Allen, that's enough," Hitomi scolded with an embarrassed blush popping on her face. "If you can't sit still, you'll be put in the corner, understand?"

The blond man pouted, but complied. As the couch springs settled down, Millerna turned to Van.

"Explain."

He sighed and Hitomi watched his Adam's apple bob in his tan throat. "We need to go to the downtown Court House. We have a lead that someone knows some information that will help save hundreds."

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure you were vague enough." The blond woman smirked and leaned her elbow on the white armrest. She gestured a lazy hand to Hitomi. "How does she fit in to saving hundreds?"

To Hitomi's surprise, Van turned his mahogany eyes to her and leaned close. She felt her heart beat skip and a strange shiver run through her as he put his mouth close to her ear and whispered, "Is it okay if I tell her about you?"

He was asking permission.

A sense of relief and mild humiliation ran a course through her. Of course he wouldn't… what was she thinking? And in a stranger's home… Well, of course this lady wasn't a stranger to him, but how could she think that he was going to…? Hitomi blinked and then clicked her mind back on track.

"Go ahead," She smiled, trying to cover up her weird pause. His eyes flicked down at her lips and she felt another jolt hit her. Okay, maybe she wasn't as dense as she thought she was.

"We can't talk long, Millerna, so I'll make this very quick." The black-haired man moved back to his side of the couch and scratched the left side of his tan nose. The blond woman's expression hadn't changed, but Hitomi noticed a strange twinkle in her blue eyes. "There is an assassin after her. She is a part of the motorcycle races that have gone on these past few years."

"She's one of the people racing?"

Van frowned in thought. "Kinda…"

"The races are run by an underground overlord that goes by a nickname 'Caesar'." Hitomi began, her green eyes turning to Van. She nodded, signaling that she'd continue the explanation. "I sneak into the races and try to win in order to bring my pretend Master further inside the inner circle. Our goal was to figure out Caesar's true identity and kill him. They sent an assassin after me and Mr. Fanel learned about it. He has saved my life twice already." She felt Van stir beside her. "We have found a clue that might lead us to Caesar's identity. Allen was part of the races as well. He was one of the many who were freed from the mind control that forced them to be slaves. We kept them in an old orphanage on the outskirts of the city. Allen was in charge of removing the mind controlling device."

Millerna's blue eyes glanced over at Allen – who was fiddling with his long fingers and humming a little song.

Van said, "We need you to take care of Allen while we research this clue. And… borrow your car."

"What about your truck?" Van opened his mouth to explain, but the beautiful woman lifted a hand to stop him. "He's tracked the license number. That was a stupid question. So, that's the story, huh?" Millerna sighed. "That's pretty heavy stuff, Van. So, the man you warned me about earlier this evening, he's the assassin after her, huh?"

Hitomi gasped and glanced at him. He nodded, his neck veins bulging slightly. "You can handle it right?"

"Like I said before, he'd be a fool to even step foot on our sidewalk." The blond woman let a small grin shift on her lips. The short-haired girl's green eyes traveled from Van to Millerna and back again.

Who were these people?

"We need to be on our way." Van announced and stood up. He reached down to hand Hitomi up as well. She was unexpectedly touched by the gesture.

Seriously, what was wrong with her?

"Where are you going, Tomi?" Allen trumpeted, leaping off the couch and hurrying towards her. She stopped him with a palm on his tall chest before her could hug her tightly.

"I have to leave you here with preautiful Ms. Millerna, okay?" Hitomi smiled reassuringly at the taller man. He blinked and his blue eyes widened.

"For how long?"

She paused. "Uh… just a little while. Go sit back on the couch and be a good guest."

"But I want to go with-"

"I know you want to go with me, but this is for the best. Ms. Millerna will take really good care of you."

"I can't let you go with _him_!" Allen spat out at Van. The black-haired man tilted his head slightly and was obviously trying not to smile. "See!? He's not a good person at all! You can't fall for him, Hitomi! He's bad! He's laughing at me! I'm good! I can do whatever _he_ can do! I-"

"Allen, go to that couch and _stay there_!" Hitomi scolded. "And you," she turned to Van, "you should know better than to tease him, Mr. Fanel."

The blond man let out a dramatic huff and turned around while Van lifted his tan hands in innocence. The white couch made a creaking groan as Allen threw his entire body on the cushions and curled into a ball facing the backrest. His long blond hair trailed to the floor.

"Is he going to be okay?" Millerna whispered as Allen made a soft moaning noise.

"He's throwing a tantrum. He'll calm down in a bit. Give him some juice if you have any. He loves juice…" she thought for a moment, "and unicorn stickers."

"Shouldn't you lie low for a couple of days? This might all blow over." Millerna suggested, walking with them to the door. "I don't know much about what's happened, but I'm sure we can fight this guy off no problem."

"I won't have Chid in anymore danger than he's already in. Besides, this guy is a leveled tracker and fully loaded. He's good. I just want you to be safe, Millerna. Let Dryden know what has happened, but nothing more. He won't let me go alone if you do."

The blond woman bit her lip and walked over to wrap her arms around Van's shoulders. Hitomi stood by his side, feeling like an intruder. She watched his face slide from surprise to a small smile as he returned the hug warmly.

"You'll always be the self-sacrificing idiot, Van."

"Can't help it. It's the instincts."

Millerna snorted a laugh in his shoulder and backed away. Her watering blue eyes switched to Hitomi's face.

"Please," the blond said in almost a whisper, "promise me you'll bring him back in one piece."

"Millerna…" Van sighed. "We gotta go."

Shaking his dark head, he turned around to stroll to the door. Hitomi stood still and kept Millerna's eyes for a moment.

Then she nodded and gave her a small, smile. Millerna grinned back and wiped her eyes.

* * *

The small, beat-up Chevy Cavalier was not his favorite vehicle, but Van had never been more grateful that Dryden had kept the "Turquoise Tantrum" running all these years. The axle squealed slightly when he turned the steering wheel, the green-blue paint job was pealing on the top and trunk, and it smelled slightly of mold. Still, the black-haired man knew to never look at a gift horse in the mouth, especially when that gift came from people who could beat him if they ganged up. He turned off the main highway and signaled his blinker to the left.

"Hey, Mr. Fanel?" Hitomi's soft voice piped up from the passenger side. She had been quiet since they'd left Millerna's house.

"_Van _and yes?"

"Van, sorry. Who exactly are you guys?"

Van sighed and felt his stomach sink to his lap. "What do you mean?" He asked, stalling.

"Why are you so calm during the moments we are fighting for our lives? Why did Millerna say she could handle the assassin? Who are you really?"

He knew she'd ask at some point, but he wasn't expecting so soon, especially when he'd need to have his best instincts on his side. He allowed thirty seconds to tick by as he pretended to concentrate on the empty road in front of him. Finally, he unthinkingly scratched the side of his nose and said, "I'll answer you, but not right now. I promise."

He could feel her green eyes prickling the skin of his tan face. "Okay," she sighed. "I'll hold you to your word."

"It's not that I don't want to tell you. It's just… a tough story to tell…" Van added, trying to clarify. He watched her nod slowly and turned her eyes back to the road.

"I see…"

There was a moment of silence.

"How are we going to break into the Court House?"

The black-haired man pointed to the back seat. "That reminds me. I took my tool box from the truck and set it on back floorboards. Would you mind bringing it up here? It'll save us more time."

"Sure," she said easily. Van bit back his smile as she grunted with the heavy box. "What do you put in this thing!?" She gasped and finally tipped the large box in her lap.

"All my dictionaries and a couple of bricks," the black-haired man joked. "It's locked. The combination is 5-8-8-2-9. Open her up and take out the long, brown pouch. It's kind of tucked away."

She set the box in her lap and fiddled with the strange number lock. "Why do you have a lock on here?"

"You'll understand once you get the pouch out." He turned right with a blinker. The streets were empty. He both liked it and hated it. Where were the people? They should have passed at least a hobo or gang member by now.

The lock clicked and he heard his loose tools clink together while she dug inside. "You've got a lot of junk in here. It's kind of hard to see."

"All we need is the pouch."

"Is this it?" She held up a long, thin, leather bag with her left hand.

Van nodded and took it from her. "Go ahead and close the box." He stopped at a red light as she let the metal lid of the box clang shut. The lock clicked and she gasped as the number dials reset themselves. She placed the tool box near her feet.

"It's an automatic reset lock. The numbers have changed." the mahogany-eyed man explained as he shifted the Cavalier into park. "Hold this."

He placed the pistol into Hitomi's lap. Van saw her back straighten and her hands hover timidly over the gun. The expression on her face was unreadable as her green eyes danced slowly over the weapon, but he understood. She was thinking of Balgus and her grandmother. Maybe it was a bit thoughtless of him to hand the gun to her after all the things she'd already been through tonight. The only woman he'd been around for the past nine years was Millerna – and she loved her guns so much that she named them.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, he frowned as he tried to hook the pouch to his belt. His thick flannel shirt was getting in the way. Unbuttoning the shirt, he stripped it off and tried to hide his blush as her gaze switched from the weapon to his exposed arms. He had on the gray undershirt that was always a bit tight on him. He instantly wished he'd worn one of his looser white ones instead. Heart beat picking up an unnatural rhythm; he tried to play it cool as he casually tossed the red flannel to the backseat. She kept staring; her eyes like small pin pricks on his body. Did he like it? Of course he did. Van was enough of a man to admit that he found her attractive. He'd liked her since he'd first set eyes on the photo of her. But it wasn't like he knew her or anything. They'd only just met a few hours ago. So, it was just physical attraction and nothing more.

And physical attraction could be dangerous.

_Distract yourself_! His brain supplied. _Say something_…

"The pouch is a lock-picking set. The best money can buy. I've even been able to nab a few sizable skeleton keys to add to the collection. It's got a traditional set as well as a few advanced rake picks."

"I'll take your word for it." She murmured. "But I want to see you pick a lock for myself. A construction worker turned super spy. You sure are hyping up this story you're going to tell me later."

"Or is it super spy turned construction worker?" Van joked and caught her eyes with his. The Cavalier was smaller than his truck. He only had to reach out a few inches to touch her arm… but he shouldn't…

"Isn't it a felony to possess lock-picks without a license?" She whispered shifting her head a bit close to him.

Van knew he was grinning like a fool, feeling his entire body responding to her advances. He was getting pulled in towards her. In the back of his mind, the small alarm told him that this wasn't the smartest idea, but the rest of his brain was too busy concentrating on the nearness of her lips. Van tried not to look at them, but they were curved into a lovely smile. This close, he noticed she had small dimples.

It was just like at Millerna's house. It was almost as if he couldn't help it.

Oh, God, she'd said something to him, didn't she?

Van thought up a quick reply.

"Who says I _don't _have a license?"

"Wild guess," She laughed quietly, her eyes twinkling merrily and leaned further. Despite the warnings, he lifted a hand to reach for her cheek.

The light turned green and the mood broke instantly. Van blinked, pulled back, cleared his throat, and shifted the car back into drive. He watched from the side of his eye as she straightened up as well and her gaze traveled back to the gun that still rested in her lap.

He felt feverish, and yet cold inside. What the hell was wrong with him? What was he _doing?_ They were in the middle of being hunted here! They were about to sneak into a government building and steal.

Now is not the time!

"I'll take the pistol back."

"Please, do."

He reached over, grabbed the weapon from her lap, and put it in his own next to the pouch. He saw her shoulders sag and she sighed. He noticed the metal of the gun had been warmed by her thighs. His grip tightened a bit on the steering wheel and he wished he'd never seen her legs in her shorts.

The majestic, columned building rose into view on the right. Austurian flags waved on tall flagpoles all across the top of the building's roof. A statue of blind lady justice stood proudly proclaiming the balanced scales. Her stone robes spilled out over the top of the long stairs leading to the doors. Van drove past the Court House and parked in front of a bakery quite a bit a ways.

"Why did you park here?" Hitomi asked as he turned off the car.

"We can climb down the roof from here. Do you see the fire escape in the alleyway right there? The space between the Court House and the next building is jumpable with a running start."

"The roof? Why the roof?

"If we need to escape in a hurry, the roof is probably the safest bet. Of course, there are also a minimum of four emergency exit doors that led out the back and to the sides; however, anyone attacking would immediately zero in on these doors. The only problem with the roof would be cover. If the assassin follows us there though, he'll be just as open. I've still got a gun and I'm not too bad of a shot."

"A minimum of four exits? How do you know that?" The short-haired girl gave him another suspicious look. "See? This is what I mean. You own a set of lock-picks, you are a good shot with a gun and you automatically know the number of exits outside a building by only driving past it."

"I kind of inherited this lock-pick set from my brother, I said I'm not _too bad_ at of a shot, and it's also standard building procedure to make sure every building over the length of forty feet has to have at least four exits." Van grinned at her. "It's not anything special, Ms. Kanzaki. I still work in construction, remember?"

Hitomi blushed and looked away.

"I understand why you'd ask though. It is kinda weird that I would know and have things like this." He turned away and scratched his nose again. "I'm used to always knowing where my exits are. What's the safest way to escape, to hide, to sneak in and out unnoticed? I automatically do that." He paused and sighed. "We need to get going?"

Van felt her green eyes travel back to his face and she smiled softly at him. "Of course. Let's go."

They both opened the squeaking turquoise doors and Van locked the car with the keys. Another downside to this green monster was the manual locks. No more unlocking from his keys.

Van already missed his truck.

Buckling the picks to the side of his belt and tucking the gun in the back of his pants, he and Hitomi walked the quiet sidewalk towards the Court House. The night's breeze had caught the short strands of her light brown hair and blew her bangs back from her face. Her bright green eyes peered out at the darkness. Her slender hands grasped the edge of her light purple t-shirt with a nervous tug. He inhaled slowly and mentally shook his head.

God, she was cute.

"Is it quiet out here to you?" Her voice was hesitant.

"I was just thinking that." _Kinda…_ He added in his head. Well, he had thought that before at least.

"Isn't there going to be security cameras and guards? Should we get masks to cover our faces?"

"We'll be alright. We'll be in and out before the cops show. We just need the court records. If worst comes to worst, we can act like rebellious teenagers trying to get a kick out of vandalism."

She smiled and her hands stopped tugging on her shirt. He took the opportunity to grab one and pull her into the alleyway on the side of the Court House. She gave a small gasp, but he kept leading her further down the narrow dark passage. It smelled slightly of sour Chinese food and wet dog. A green and yellow dumpster stood proudly rotting at the very back next to an unnoticeable metal door. He let go of her hand and bent to check the lock. Two dead bolts. Easy.

"Hello, emergency exit," Hitomi whispered behind him and he smiled back at her. He could see the visible blush on her cheeks. Reaching into the pouch flap, he took out the thin screwdriver and small metal pin. Working the keyhole, he felt her lean over his back to watch. A shiver of pride ran through him as – with two quick flicks of his wrist – both dead bolts clicked unlocked within seconds of each other.

"Wow, you weren't kidding." She beamed. "You're amazing."

Van placed the tools back in the small satchel and stood up scratching his nose. "Thanks. It really isn't that hard though. Come on, let's get in and get out of here."

Opening the door quietly, he pulled out the gun and made her wait while he checked inside. The metallic stairwell was completely dark. Van immediately wished he'd had the hindsight to bring a flashlight.

The only sound echoing through the room was his breathing. He still didn't like it. A feeling of danger wrestled inside his skull. Were his instincts telling him to get out? A warning signal in the back of his mind urged him to leave.

Well, he was going in regardless, but maybe she shouldn't…

"Well, is it clear?" She asked, putting a hand on his shoulder to peer inside. He grabbed her hand, turned around, and faced her. He tried to let go of her fingers, but decided he didn't want to.

"I should go alone."

Her green eyes zipped from his face to their clasped hands and back again. "What? Why?"

"It's not safe here. You should wait back in the car."

"What are you talking about? I'm going with you."

"I shouldn't put you in danger like this."

"I've been in plenty of dangerous situations before, believe me. I'm not letting you go in there alone. We are supposed to be vandalizing hoodlums, remember?"

"Please, just trust me on this." He squeezed her hand and stared hard into her eyes.

He saw her slowly softening. Finally, she sighed and nodded.

"Thank you." He breathed. Relunctantly letting go of her hand, he turned back around to the doorway…

And looked into the barrel of a gun pointed at his face.

* * *

**Cliffy! Sorry! **

**Actually I'm mostly sorry because if I had posted the rest of what I'd written, then this chapter would be EVEN LONGER.**

**Well, stay tuned for the next - and hopefully last - part of Racing for Freedom. A big thank you to Nai for the proofreading beforehand and being so patient with my changes, to Missing White Wings 15 for the support, to Arienhod for being awesome. You guys are my lifeline. :)**

**Have a good one. Now to secretly shoot my boss in the back with rubber bands with my homemade sling shot...**

**blue...**


	3. The Past

**And here is Chapter 3 and this story is still not done. It should be done next chapter!... but then I say that and it probably won't be. I'm sorry for the long wait on it. Rutilus is underway as well, but I really wanted to get this chapter up and running before I post that chapter. **

**But more on that later. Proceed with the reading!**

* * *

His sharp whistling was carried off by the evening breeze as he slid easily into the white cop car and plopped his duffel bag in the dark passenger seat beside him. Flicking on the tracer, he rescanned Fanel's license plate number through the system. It loaded quickly and zeroed in on an address that was about forty minutes from the orphanage in the opposite direction of the Court House. Obviously they'd switched vehicles and ditched the truck. But no matter. He'd request the information on Fanel on the way.

The Court House was close. Dilandau's smile slipped a bit. He needed to inform his superiors about his findings. Permission to proceed. The one thing the silver-haired man hated was stopping his hunt once he began. If the agency ever cancelled his missions… but that had never happened to him before. He shouldn't worry about such a silly thing.

Pulling out his silent phone, he dialed the agency and typed a brief message explaining the target's current location. Pausing for only a half-second, he added what he'd learned about the missing pawns as well as the hidden passageway through the orphanage.

A small _ding _from his phone told him the agency appreciated the update and he was to continue pursuit. His red eyes crossed over the word 'pursuit' and his smile grew once more. Scrolling further down the small message, it flashed a small coded box. Dilandau casually flipped in his decoder tag and a small sentence appeared underneath the original message.

_Alerted targeted Master Nicolas Jackson; Alternative Objective: protect Master 661 at Court House._

Checking the clock, Dilandau exhaled his irritation through his eternal smile. It was nearly midnight. What was that bastard Master doing at the Court House in the middle of the night?

Locking the phone, he turned on the vehicle and began backing out of the dirt road.

If this Master got in the way of his target, Dilandau found that he would still be happy to pull the trigger.

* * *

Van's mind reacted instantaneously.

He ducked under the gun and effortlessly slipped inside the stranger's arm range. With a quick hand, he grabbed the wrist that held the gun and twisted it back. The gun let off a wild shot that hit the back dumpster. He drove the handle of his pistol into the man's nose before the stranger could make another move. He felt the cartilage give a satisfying crack. Blood began splurging out the man's face. Despite the disorienting pain he must have felt, the man gave a wild punch. Van's gun whipped out of his hand as the man's bloody fingers connected on the neck of his pistol. It clattered uselessly towards a trash pile in the corner and Van cursed under his breath. Balling up his fist, Van smashed it into the man's forearm with a terrible force. The power snapped the man's wrist, breaking the bone. The weapon slipped out of his unworkable hand and clanked to the concrete floor.

"Grab his gun!" He shouted at Hitomi. She bent down to get it and the man kicked out at her. She reflexively dodged and his shoe hit the weapon sending it rattling several feet down the alleyway. Van blinked in surprise as the bleeding man swung his free arm once again to punch him. The black-haired man ducked immediately and nailed him in the diaphragm. The air escaped painfully from the stranger's lungs. Though he was winded and his bloody nose was making a mess on his pale face, he clumsily stepped forward for another swing. A bell rang in Van's head. Did this man feel no pain? How could he still try to attack? He should be on the floor in agony. Van's mahogany eyes studied the stranger, quickly analyzing. He was shorter and thinner than Van. His punches and kicks were clumsy and weak. The attacker wasn't even looking directly at his punch. He was swinging blindly. His brown eyes were in a daze.

Almost as if…

"Wait, Mr. Fanel! He has a collar! Look!" He heard Hitomi shout out from behind him as he easily raised a tanned hand to counter the attacker's awkward fist. The black-haired man's gaze traveled to the man's neck and he saw the thick leather collar that looked similar to the one the woman at the orphanage had on. Van immediately backed away from the man's reach and felt Hitomi's small hand grasp onto his arm. Her fingers were cold. The 'nap took a step closer, his broken arm swaying at his side.

"Please, don't hurt him! He's like Gadeth and Allen! He can't help what he's doing."

Van and Hitomi backed away together further down the alleyway as the young man continued to shuffle towards them. With their back against the wall, Van knew they'd be at a disadvantage whether the man was a weak fighter or not. The 'nap was weaponless, but he felt no pain and therefore could continue attacking regardless of the damage Van did to his body.

This was tricky if he didn't want to hurt the man more than he already had. Van racked his brain and saw no other solution.

"I'll have to hurt him a bit. Just to subdue him. I can't let him back us into a corner." He gently plucked her hand off his arm and lightly pushed her on the shoulder and closer to the dumpster. He didn't notice the small frown that popped on her face. "Stay out of the way, Ms. Kanzaki. I'm going to knock him unconscious."

Without listening for her approval, Van stepped once more into the man's attacking range and blocked his crooked punch with a strong forearm. The man rose up to kick and Van stopped the leg with another quick punch in the stomach. As the man doubled over trying to recover his lost breath again, Van used this opportunity to slam the man's head into his knee. Hitomi gasped and ran forward. The 'nap fell limp and she grabbed the unconscious man with shaking hands to help guide him gently on the dirty concrete. Some of the blood from the man's nose had splattered on both their clothes.

"I'm sorry." The black-haired man winced as she swallowed thickly and her green eyes studied the man's blank face. "I know that was tough to watch."

"He is a 'nap… Just like Gadeth said. They are using them as bodyguards now… how… how horrible…"

Her narrowed eyes turned slowly to his face and Van read her expression immediately. He shook his head and his dark bangs flicked into his unrelenting eyes.

"You're not coming with me inside. Go wait in the car."

"No," she stood up and stepped over the 'nap's still body to stare rebelliously up at him. Green clashed with mahogany.

"You said you would go."

"That was before we were attacked. That was before I found out there are 'naps in there. There is no way I'm leaving now."

"Ms. Kanzaki, my instincts are telling me that-"

"These are innocent people. I am _not _leaving."

"I can handle this alone. There might be more then just brainwashed bodyguards. We don't know what to expect."

"Good, you'll need backup then."

"Ms. Kanzaki-"

"Like you said, we don't know what to expect. You'll have someone watching your back."

"Ms. Kanzaki, I-"

"I have a gun now and I know how to fight, Mr. Fanel!" She held up the small repeater pistol the 'nap had dropped and he immediately started shaking his head again. Van rarely lost his temper, but he felt his anger quickly growing. A weird heat ignited in his belly as he tried to stare her down.

All he was doing was trying to protect her! Were all women this complicated?

"Ms. Kanzaki, this is not-"

"Do you need me to beat you up to prove it?"

"It's not that I-"

"You what? Trust me with a weapon? Trust me to take care of myself?"

"_Listen_! Do you even know how to shoot?"

"Of course, I do!"

"Then why were you so afraid of the gun in the car?"

"I wasn't afraid of it. I just don't like guns period. But I _do _know how to shoot and I'm_ going_ in there with you!"

"It won't be safe-"

"My duty is to the 'naps!"

"And surviving. You are being hunted!"

"So are you! You said it yourself that cop guy is now after you as well since you saved me. But I told you before; I don't need to be saved all the time."

"God, why don't you understand? I have training for this sort of thing!"

"So do I!"

Van snorted with annoyance and ran a hand through his black hair. He tried to calm his mind for rationality. "I can't have you distracting me during a fight!"

"That's a load of crap. I can take care of myself! I've put myself in plenty of dangerous situations before you showed up. Just because you've got some secret skills suddenly you think you are running this show? This has always been _my _fight, not yours." She raised her chin defiantly. "Who do you think you are? You're just some stranger that was handed a photograph in a bar!"

"If I hadn't been handed that photograph, you'd have been dead hours ago!" The black-haired man's heart picked up an unnatural tempo as he took a step closer towards her. The air around them felt hot and electric. Her breath was brushing hard against his chin. He resisted the urge to grab her shoulders and shake some gratitude into her. "I didn't _have_ to come and save you from that house! I didn't _have_ to follow you to the orphanage. I should have followed my instincts and-"

"And what?" Her green eyes narrowed further. "Left me to die? Let all those poor innocents in the orphanage get slaughtered like animals? But fine, whatever, no skin off your back!"

"I didn't say that! All I meant was-"

"You made a choice and now you are questioning whether you made the right one or not!"

Van was left in frustrated daze. _How did she do that!? She just flipped my words around! _

"There was never any question about _not _coming to save you! There was no choice!"

"Oh, yes, there was! You just said it!"

He gritted his teeth and leaned closer to her face. She met his eyes challengingly.

_God, what the hell is this woman doing to me!?_

He watched her lips form the words, but the blood pulsed so fiercely in his ears, he was having a bit of trouble hearing her. "I need you to _stop_ treating me like some damsel in distress. I'm not weak, so stop telling me to go to the car! Don't push me aside. I can fight!"

"I don't want you to get hurt!"

"Newsflash, buddy, I'm already hurt! I've already seen the death of half the people I love!"

"You don't understand…" Van tried to stop the flicker of pain and memories coursing through him. "You don't understand anything at all…"

"So, tell me! Tell me what I do not understand here! Because it has obviously given you an overprotective complex! Oh, wait. That's a story for _later_!" she hollered at his face. He blanched but quickly recovered.

"It isn't the time to tell it! We should be focused on survi-"

"Do you know where Jackson's office is?"

"Will you _stop_ interrupting me!?" Van shouted.

"Do you know where Jackson's office is? In this building? Exact location?"

Van went still. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"Because I do. I'll get us there and – if we get into trouble – you can have us jump from the roof or whatever you spy people do. You need to get it through your thick head that I haven't been in this business just for the motorcycle thrills. Balgus and I researched the higher Masters. Where they worked. What they did in their free time. You need me just as much as I need you."

"But it isn't safe…" Van felt his resolve breaking. Will it happen again? Just like the past? The image of a small, abandoned cottage bled into his mind and a flash of pain ricocheted through his entire body. "Please…"

"I can't," she whispered with a determined face. Suddenly, her green eyes lost a bit of their fight as she searched his face. Van swallowed and tried to push the traitorous memory away. Her melting green eyes grew both curious and concerned. Her lips opened slightly as she studied him.

It was right then Van realized how close he was to her face. He backed away and she blinked, closed her mouth, and swallowed. She was breathing heavily and the air between them cooled slowly. Goose-bumps rose on his tan bare arms and he willed his body to calm down. He kept her green eyes in his and she stared at him hard.

Stubborn and uncompromising.

He exhaled and tried one last time. "Please, Hitomi…"

Her face started slightly and he saw a different spark light behind her green eyes.

"Face it. I'm coming."

The black-haired man ran a heavy hand through his hair and groaned as he rubbed the back of his tan neck. With a sigh and a twist in his stomach he finally blurted, "Fine! But you stay behind me in there."

She shook her head and her short hair tossed with the evening breeze. "I'll stay right beside you."

Van felt his eye twitch. "Fine! But you'll do what I say."

He blinked as the corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk. His stomach was beginning to burn again.

"You'll do what I say!"

The smirk grew to a full blown smile.

"Ms. Kanzaki!" She started walking casually to the open doorway to enter the Court House. "Ms. Kanzaki!"

She stopped just at the threshold and turned her head to look at him. The confident smile still spread on her lips. He found that expression both irritating and beautiful.

What had he put himself into?

"Please, call me Hitomi."

* * *

Hitomi heard Van slip in behind her and close the metal door quietly. Her heart beat rose with expectation. Here is where they'd finally get the information. With Van's lockpicking skills, she'd be able to break into the judge's office easily. Why hadn't she thought of this sooner?

A flashback of Allen came to her mind and she felt her courage rise. His long, thin body lying writhing on the soft mattress. His blond hair – shorter back then – streaked with sweat and tears.

"So, where to?" Van's low voice rumbled in her ears and echoed lightly up the stairwell. She cringed inside. Why is it men never whispered properly?

"Second floor, down the hallway. After that, I think it's another right… or maybe a left. I'll have to gather my surroundings."

She heard the man let go a really long breath. "You sure you know where you're going?" She could just see his eyebrow twitching at the back of her head.

"You don't have to come along. You can just wait in the car."

When he didn't answer, she smiled to herself in the darkness.

The stairwell was barely lit, so she felt her way along the tiled wall and found the handrail. Leading them quietly up the steps, she approached the door to the second landing. The door handle jiggled freely. Unlocked. Her stomach twisted with nerves and she tried to hide her growing anxiety. What if something waited for them on the other side? What if-

"Let me go first." Van's low voice tickled into her left ear and interrupted her panicked thoughts. She resisted the urge to rub it on her shoulder. "I just want to check if the coast is clear. There might be someone waiting on the other side for us."

"What if it's a 'nap?"

"I'll try to knock them out without causing too much attention."

"Just… don't hit them too hard…"

"Yes, ma'am."

Standing aside, she barely saw through the darkness as his tan hand checked the doorknob twice and then gently eased it open. A small patch of poor light wafted inside and she immediately focused on his face. His mahogany eyes were firmly planted on the opening crack. He looked like a tiger ready to pounce; calm and smooth. Lips pressed lightly together, Van breathing was slow, rolling in and out evenly like an ocean tide. Her own heart was pounding harshly against her chest, so rough and ragged she was sure he could hear it. Watching him fearlessly lean his dark head out of the doorway, she began to regret what she'd yelled at him before. She was extremely lucky to have him.

If they lived through this, she decided to apologize.

The hallway was clear because Van opened the door a little more and slipped his body through. Holding his pistol in both hands, he kept it tucked to his chest as his eyes rolled over every small corner for impending threats. She followed and shut the metal door quietly. Just like she'd described, they'd entered a long hallway with rows of doors on either side. Catching his mahogany eye, she nodded and proceeded down the cream carpet with slow steps. Scanning each door's white label, she felt relief as she remembered Jackson's office was to the right once the hallway branched. Then it was only a matter of looking for documents with Caesar's name. Jackson probably had them in some secret compartment no doubt.

Her heart pounded a fierce rhythm. She had a satisfying image of beating the answer out of the judge.

She wondered if Van would be up for that.

When she reached halfway down the quiet hallway, a sudden noise made her freeze. Two male voices sounded from a doorway to her right and were quickly growing stronger. Eyes wide, a ripple of fear coursed through her and she stood there with her thoughts in a panic. She gave a small gasp as a strong arm wrap around her torso from behind, gently lifted her off her feet, and hauled her inside a room on her left. Her gun – which she had tucked into her pants – slipped out of her waistline and thumped in the middle of the carpet. She tried to stifle her panting breath as Van clicked the door shut just in time. Setting her feet on the ground, they both backed away together in the black room. Van's broad back gently hit a small shelf, slightly disturbing the contents on it. Judging by the chemical smell in the room, they were in a janitor's closet. His tan arm was still wrapped protectively around her stomach and pressed her body against his warm chest. She clutched his forearm with cold hands feeling light-headed and grateful. His chin hovered over the top of her head and she could feel his steady breath stirring her short hair. His heart pulsed at an easy pace against her shoulder-blade. Her own heart was pounding ferociously and she was well aware Van could probably feel it on his arm. The voices grew nearer and she held her breath.

"…no need to bring _him_ here."

"It's for your own good, Jackson. Especially now that his target is coming after you."

"What target? A woman? What can a woman do?"

Van arm tightened around her.

"Sir, Dilandau is reliable."

"Then why has he failed to- hang on. What is this gun doing here in the middle of the floor?"

There was a moment of silence. Hitomi felt like her entire stomach was in her throat.

"This is Anderson's gun. He sent his pawn on patrol about an hour ago."

The judge made a low snort. "Where is the fool?"

"Downstairs, I believe. He's with Thomas and William last I saw."

"Go give the gun back to Anderson. He was stupid enough to think his pawn could handle it."

"We should search for the pawn then."

"You mean _you_ should search for the pawn. I have work to do for Caesar. I'll be in my office."

"Sir, you should really think about your safety. The woman is-"

"The woman will be dead before she enters the front doors." The judge said with an air of ease. Hitomi involuntarily twitched against Van's body and he lowered his chin on top of her head. His body language was clear as if he'd spoken the words out loud.

_Over my dead body…_

"I asked the boys to send their pawns to guard the exits. Thomas was reluctant to let his new girl out of his sight. She is a beauty."

"Doesn't matter if she is beautiful or not. As long as her collar is strapped on, she'll be in the races. He shouldn't get too attached. He'll probably lose her faster."

Van relaxed slightly and he gently removed his arm. Her eyes still hadn't adjusted to the darkness, so as he began to slowly pass her and get closer to the door, she lifted her hands to try to feel for the walls. Her fingers brushed a spray can and it rattled loudly on a plastic shelf. Grabbing the can with shaking fingers, she froze. Van had become completely silent as well. Not a breath passed between them.

"Some pawns are so useless. My last one was somewhat competent. Makes me almost miss him." The judge's voice continued and Hitomi had to stop herself from staggering with relief. She bent silently and placed the offending can on the dark floor.

"About the races? Did he give you a replacement?"

She snuck closer to the door and could barely make out Van's tall figure beside her.

"I may handle his legal affairs, but I have to follow the rules just like everyone else. I've just submitted an order to get a new one. He reassured me my pawn will be here in time for the next race."

She reached blindly for Van and her fingertips brushed the thin fabric of his shirt. He jumped slightly and turned towards her. She guided her hand down his arm till she found his palm, felt for the door handle, and put his fingers to it. She hoped he'd understand the nonverbal communication.

_Let's catch them by surprise. Right here. Right now._

He squeezed her hand and let her go. She felt his arm knock her gently behind him and she sighed with forced resignation.

Let him play hero one last time.

"…and the system won't stop us. Once these papers are completed, I will finally shut out the GIA from legal investigation into the races and Caesar can rest easy that the entire situation will now be under his personal thumb."

Hitomi started slightly and frowned as an epiphany rolled over her thoughts. Caesar would obviously be pulling strings to keep out the GIA's involvement. That much was clear. But… there was someone else who had publically denounced the government's influence. He'd been passive aggressively arguing it for years. His reasons were always concentrated on not relying on 'big brother' to help, but trusting in the APD to get to the bottom of the investigation. She'd always assumed he was ignorant of the corruption of the police force. He'd given brave speeches to the people about unifying under the Austurian banner. That the government was to one to blame for the atrocities. That the police force would protect the Austurian citizens. An image of the smiling, genteel grandfather figure popped in her head and she almost smacked her forehead with her palm. She felt stupid for not realizing it before. He was hiding in plain sight.

What if Caesar was…

Dornkirk, the Mayor of Austura…?

There was only one way to find out…

Hitomi blinked. Their voices were growing fainter. They were leaving down the hallway to the staircases. The other man laughed. "I never understood why Caesar made you play the games in the first place. You are already his right hand."

"This is why sending someone like Dilandau is a waste. I think I can handle one rebellious little girl. Maybe Caesar will put a collar on her and she'll be one of the new pawns. Caesar told me Zaibach's come up with some new collars that are only for _personal_ use. I've seen the picture and she's quite the looker."

Van's opened the door so forcefully it bounced off the back wall. She gave a surprised squeak as he rushed out and immediately aimed his pistol down the hallway. Four shots instantly followed and she heard the sound of two bodies crashing to the floor, both voices screaming in agony. Van tore down the hallway and stomped his foot painfully on a suited man's hand. She saw the repeater she'd dropped earlier fly out of the man's fingers and hit the wall near her. With a swift kick, Van's toe connected with the man's face and he fell back flat on his back, unconscious.

Hitomi slowly walked behind Van, her green eyes focusing on the small man shivering on the ground. Tears ran down his beady dark eyes as he gasped for breath. His bald head shinned with sweat. Two large dark stains were spreading on the upper part of his thighs. Both his hands were red with blood.

Van had shot him in the legs.

"W-wh-who…"

Van raised his fist to punch him, but Hitomi called out, "Wait." He didn't look at her, but straightened up and glared at the man. She walked closer, picked up the gun, and kept it in her hand. The blood pounded in her ears like a sporadic drum. Her green eyes pierced the cowering man.

Caesar's right hand man.

_Dornkirk…_

"Please take off his suit jacket, Van. Make sure he doesn't have weapons." Hitomi could hardly believe her voice sounded so calm. The gun didn't shake though her fingers felt like blocks of ice. She forced herself to walk closer and a wave of disgust washed over her. A vision of Gadeth's broken tear-stained face swam over her eyes and she clinched the gun tighter. Van ripped the suit coat off the man's shoulders with such violent force, Jackson let out a whimper of pain. As Van patted down his clothes and body, his ugly eyes swiveled over to his unconscious partner lying next to him.

"He's unarmed." Van announced. His tenor voice sounded composed, but his mahogany eyes glared daggers.

The bald man's fright was still clear though he tried to hide it. He swallowed thickly and gave her a mocking smile filled with pain. "I'm guessing you'd be the bitch who is after me. I was never informed you had an attack dog."

"He is the least of your worries," she whispered and a swell of anger washed through her. She raised the gun with a steady hand and took several steps closer. Pointing it at the man's thin face, he paled slightly. "Van, if you don't mind, keep an eye out on the back hallway. Please make sure no one disturbs us. I'd like to have a private chat with Mr. Jackson."

"You heard her, dog," the wounded man spat bravely at Van and his dark eyebrow twitched. "She wants _private _time. Guess I'll get lucky regardless if I put her in a collar or not."

She watched Van's tan fists clench and he gave a huge exhaling breath. Turning to her, he said, "They probably heard the gun shots down below. We don't have much time."

"I'll make it quick."

His footfalls softly fell away as she walked closer to the judge; tilting her head and studying his pasty face.

Jackson bottom lip was trembling. "What, bitch? Going to shoot me or are we going to start with the private time like you promised?"

She remained silent. Her face unreadable. She took another step closer. Her shoes were about a foot away from his trembling legs. Several beads of sweat rolled off the man's face and dripped onto his white shirt.

"I won't tell you anything. Not a damn thing."

"That's perfectly fine with me." She said simply cocking one hip to the side. She blinked her eyes in boredom.

The man shifted on the floor in surprise. "What? But you-"

"You thought I came here to get answers out of you, but you got it all wrong. I already know everything I need to know. I'm here for a different reason altogether."

"Know everything? That is a load of shi-"

"How did I know you'd be here, Nicolas Jackson? How did I know you'd be at the Court House this very second?"

"This is where I work, isn't it?"

"Then how would I know you are currently putting documents together to permanently keep out the GIA's assistance? And if I kill you that would put Caesar in a tight position?"

Another drop of sweat rolled off his face. "You don't know anything. Even if you kill me, Caesar will-"

"Right hand man, huh? That sounds pretty important."

"You wouldn't…"

She clicked her tongue. "I've been planning for this moment for a long time. I've studied you for years. I would like to make this moment last longer, but unfortunately I don't have that luxury. But rest assured you'll die tonight."

"I've done nothing to you." The man was visibly trembling.

Hitomi was surprised at the cold laugh that escaped her. "You have done more to me then you'll ever realize. Did you know Balgus? You might know him better as Rodger Mackmore."

"I don't-"

"He was annoying and rude and one of the best people I've ever known. He's dead because of you. There's also my grandma. You don't know her personally. She's dead though. Just like Balgus. Died right in front of me."

"I don't give a rat's ass about you or-"

"Oh, trust me," her voice was peaceful, almost pleasant. "I don't care if you do. Another is someone very dear to me. He was one of the first we freed from your collars. His name is Allen. He's been mentally disfigured because of it. Despite all those problems, despite all the horror he is still going through, he is loving and kind."

"Why are you telling me thi-"

"The last you need to know about is another pawn we freed. We got him just last night." At those words, the judge's sweaty face dropped the strained sneering expression. His pale skin looked swarthy in the shadowed hallway. Her grasp on the gun strengthened as she took another step closer. The repeater's barrel inched closer to his pasty forehead. "He has been the only one that got out of his collar and remained completely sane. He remembered every single detail of his enslavement."

"And I'm supposed to give a damn about who that-"

"You should because he was with _you_ the entire time." Hitomi tilted her head and pierced her green eyes into the man's small beady ones. She watched him swallow and take a shuddering breath. "He knows everything you know. He was watching. Every lie you said, every bribe, and every torture you inflicted on him. Still don't believe me when I tell you I know everything?" She cocked the gun without fluttering an eyelid. He let out a strangled grunt. "Maybe it's time you learned why I'm here. Does the name Gadeth Justinas mean anything to you?"

Jackson's mouth bobbed up and down for a moment.

"He doesn't know everything. Caesar's identity was never reve-"

"After I'm done with you, _Dornkirk_ will be next."

The flabbergasted silence he gave almost made her grin with satisfaction. A proud relief pulsed through her mind as Jackson's face turned several shades of purple. Then the blood drained from his face; the sharp cheekbones becoming shallow and concave. He had just given it away.

Caesar was Dornkirk.

"Do you think that because I'm just a _rebellious little girl _that I wouldn't figure it out?"Hitomi lowered her voice. "But now you've just confirmed what I've been suspecting. Thank you, Mr. Jackson."

He was visibly trembling now. The combination of loss of blood and mind-numbing fear were beginning to put his body into shock. "You kill me and nothing will change. He will rise to-"

Hitomi danced her finger on the trigger. "It's a bit cliché, but you know what they say about the higher they rise…"

A gunshot from down the hallway made Hitomi and the judge start in surprise. Glancing back behind her, she saw Van using the wall as cover and bullet ping down the right side.

"Hitomi! It's time to go!" He yelled turning to run to her. "Our cop friend is down the hall!" Before Van could reach her, she lowered the gun slightly and pulled the trigger. The bullet thundered out of the gun and drilled into the front of the judge's pants. Blood squirted out of the hole and the man gave a writhing screech before grabbing his crotch. She felt a sick pleasure.

New pawn or not, he won't be forcing himself on anyone for a long time.

Turning, she grabbed Van's outstretched hand, they thundered together down the hallway towards the back staircase.

Bursting through the metal doors, Hitomi gasped. There were voices coming up the stairs from the first floor. They were trapped unless…

"Let's go!" Van hissed pulling her to the left and up another flight of stairs.

* * *

Dilandau's smile strained as he jogged swiftly around the corner of the carpeted hallway. The back door slammed shut, but his red eyes focused on two bodies lying in the middle of the floor. One of them was rolling back and forth with a weeping groan. He recognized Master 661. Nicolas Jackson.

Dilandau grinned.

Pleasant warm shivers ran through him at the sight of blood soaked carpet. Swallowing down a laugh, he approached the familiar judge who he'd met only a handful of times for various missions.

"Dilandau..." the man gasped, his fingers pressing his crotch and blood leaking down his arms. "Dilandau, you have… to help me… she shot me. She-"

With a lazy finger, the silver-haired man raised his gun and pulled the trigger. Watching the thrashing man flop once then lay still, Dilandau stepped over the man and continued jogging to the back staircase.

* * *

Loud clapping echoes of thick rubber soles stomping up the steps beat a distorted rhythm in the dark stairwell. Van could sense them only a few flights down. His rational mind reeled with possible ways to solve their current predicament. He could try taking them down now that Hitomi got her repeater back. He had two more full magazines for Millnera's pistol tucked in his pocket. They could wait the few seconds it'd take for their pursuers to catch up to them and then simply aim down and fire. That would put Hitomi at risk. They knew the Court House had three men waiting downstairs, but there could be more now that the assassin showed up.

Was the chance of standing them down worth it?

Fight or flight? Fight or flight?

Hitomi's small hand held tight around his own. Her footfalls fell in step with his. She trusted him to make the right decision.

And Van always followed his instincts.

The stairwell ended with a door that glowed red from a bright EXIT sign. Glancing at her illuminated face, she nodded and panted out, "The roof!"

Checking the door handle, he wasn't surprised that it was locked. With a grunt, Van smashed his foot against the door with all the strength he possessed and it popped open with a ferocious bang. Without a moment's pause, Van pushed Hitomi through the door and turned to the stairway. Putting both hands on the pistol, he aimed and waited. The men's voices and steps echoed louder.

Any second now…

"Go to the other building like I told you before! Get to the car from the roof!" he said swiftly. "I'll take them out from here."

He couldn't see her face, but he could hear the shock in her voice. "Are you crazy? I'm not leaving you!"

"Go, Hitomi!" They were approaching the top of the second to last flight. He could see their flashlights zipping off the walls.

"NO!" She hollered. He took his eyes off the stairs for a second to see her small body move to stand right beside him. She aimed her gun and mimicked his stance. A shadow of a man's body passed and Van targeted his barrel and fired. A cry issued out and Van fought the gun's recoil. Male voices jumbled in an echoing mix of confusion; his mahogany eyes narrowed and he pulled the trigger two more times.

"Shit, my leg! They got my leg!"

"Go back! Go back! Go back!"

"Help me! Oh, God, I can't move!"

"Anderson's dead!"

"I'll kill you, bastards!"

Another shadow fell over the steps and Van heard Hitomi's repeater go off before he could begin to aim. The man fell back with a crumbling step and collapsed at the foot of the stairs.

"Let's go, Van." She murmured her green eyes full of the man she'd just killed. She flicked those eyes into his and he felt a strange shiver hit him. The feeling intensified as she grabbed his hand and tugged him out the door.

For once, her hands were warm.

Racing together on the rooftop, the wind blew against their bodies, slowing their steps. Van's mahogany eyes narrowed with tension. The roof was further than he originally planned. The conjoining building he'd thought to be strategically close was actually quite a ways to jump. Van knew he could make the gap, but Hitomi…

Glancing at the panting woman beside him, he squeezed her hand and pulled her towards a corner of the building for cover. The rest of the Masters were probably clearing the last step on top of the stairs. It was try her chances at jumping, take a stand on the roof, or find another way down. A sour taste filled his mouth. Had he killed them both coming up here? Maybe that's what his warning instinct had been telling him before. Not to go in this damn Court House in the first place.

"What are you doing?" She shouted once they ducked behind the brick wall. He took his hand out of hers and checked the ammo in the pistol. Three more bullets. Ejecting the clip, he fished into his back pocket for fresh magazine.

"We need to keep running, Van! They're right behind us!"

Van shook his head and slipped the fresh clip into the gun. "The jump is too big, Hitomi. You'll never make it. We have to make a stand here." Turning his mahogany eyes to her, he felt his calm demeanor breaking. His heart thumped harder than normal as he watched the wind toss her short hair wildly. She was going to die because of him. He should have forced her to stay at the car. He should have never let her come with him. His vision of the abandoned shack, the heat of the explosion, his brother's burning corpse…

It was always his fault…

What was he going to _do_?

Her green eyes shifted over to the edge of the building and he watched her swallow. "I will make it. I have to. We don't know how many people are after us now. There may be more Masters. The assassin probably alerted his entire freaking agency. We can't stay up here. I bet they are getting a helicopter ready to pick us off."

Van heard the rubber soles of shoes crunching on the gravely roof. Faint male voices called to one another. He couldn't concentrate on their words. He could hardly concentrate on anything at all. His brain felt like it was frozen. Caught in a self-made trap.

"They're here… we've waited too long behind this wall." Her expression was angry, but her voice sounded distracted like she was thinking quickly.

"There should be an outside emergency stairwell or something…" Van reached down and took the repeater out of her hand. She opened her mouth, but he stepped closer and forced her to look into his eyes. "Please, don't jump. With your gun, I can hold them off. I'll try to occupy them long enough for you to find another way down."

She glared at him and that warm shiver ran down his spine once more. "You self-sacrificing idiot. Why do you always-" She cut off her own words and he gasped as he felt the unexpected pressure of her head on his chest. Her small arms flung tightly around his neck and squeezed. Her warm face nuzzled the front of his shirt for a brief moment. Before Van could get his brain in gear, she'd stepped back and smiled sadly up at him.

"I'm sorry about being a brat earlier. I'm very grateful you have saved me so many times. You are a wonderful man. Please look after Allen if I don't make the jump. Take out the Mayor. He's Caesar."

Panic washed through him like a tidal wave and her words tossed haphazardly inside his head. "Mayor Dornkirk? Wait. What-"

All sounds in the world stopped as she turned away from him and began to run. Van stared transfixed as if in slow motion. Her short legs reached for speed. The strands of her light brown hair bounced with her strides. The wind whipped and clawed at her shirt. A faint voice woke him from his increasing horror and Van gritted his teeth. A rush of determination and anger pulsed through his body and made his stomach burn. Lifting his gun, he left the protective corner of the building and instantly zeroed in on a taller suited man aiming at Hitomi's running form. Van shot without a second thought and the man collapsed. His mind clicked into an old mode he used many years ago. A flash of six familiar faces zipped through his head and he instantly relaxed his breathing.

Using both the repeater and Millerna's pistol, he began to run after Hitomi, shooting as he went. A volley of screams and yells burst with each pull of his triggers. Likewise, Van felt the bullets zipping past his body with increasing accuracy.

_Click, click, click…_The repeater was empty. Van threw it and shot another man in the face at the same time. Glancing in front of him, he saw her nearing the edge. His stomach turned sharply as her feet lifted her off the roof and she sailed over the six-foot gap. She gave a small scream. Her feet brushed a few inches short of the next building and she began to fall.

Her hands caught the edge. She was hanging like a swinging target.

A strange sharp pain bloomed into his left forearm. Van turned and gave three more shots. Three more yells resounded in his pulsing ears.

Racing like his heart, he tucked the gun into his belt, ran to the edge, and his stomach gave a flip-flop as he flew across the dark alleyway below. His feet thundered solidly on the slightly slanted, shingled roof and he ran to her. A bullet whistled into the brick near her head.

"Pull me up! Pull me up!" She shrieked.

Grabbing her hands, he practically tossed her into his arms.

"Run!" He shouted uselessly and they sprinted over the skewed rooftop, feet slipping on the slick shingles. The pings of bullets clacked into various concrete and brick around them. Crossing to the other side of the pointed roof, Van yelp as his feet slipped out from under him. Both he and Hitomi landed hard on their backsides and began sliding dangerously off the steep roof. She screamed in terror. Together, they clawed at the smooth shingles, trying to find a grip. Reflex took over his mind as they plummeted closer to the edge. Van grabbed her hand and – as they both slid off to meet the ground below – he latched his left hand firmly on the drainage pipe. A shot of agony burst through his muscles and all the way down his back. He held her tight as both of their bodies hung off the edge of the building. His strong fingers clamped on the metal piping. Gritting his teeth, he tried to calm his erratic heart.

_Calm down. Think of something. There's always something_.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God." She panted. He let out an involuntary hiss of pain and he closed his eyes against the throb in his left forearm.

"Hitomi…" He could barely get his voice to work properly. His fingers felt like they were coming off.

"Van…" he heard her voice catch with a sob. "What do we do?"

"Uhhh…" He grunted. The wind pressed against his body and he trembled with both the heaviness and fear. The pain in his forearm was becoming excruciating. He could see blood trailing down his arm, bleeding down into his shirt, and trailing on his neck. "I'm… still thinking…"

An unwanted creak from the drainage pipe almost stopped Van's heart. It bent forward with their combined weight.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God…"

"Look… around…" He groaned. "Is there… anything around us?"

She gasped. "I don't see anything. Wait…"

The black-haired man felt her cold hand squeeze his in surprise.

"Van! Drop me!"

"WHAT?"

"There's a balcony right below me!"

"There… is? How far below…?"

"About ten feet. Not enough of a fall to hurt too badly."

"Are you… sure?"

He felt her other hand reach up and to pry his fingers off. "Just do it!"

Hating himself, he exhaled, let her go, and heard feet hitting concrete. A crash of something breaking followed and she let out a small grunt. "Ouch! Try to avoid the potted plants."

Freed from her weight, he glanced down and saw her straightening herself on a stained, marble balcony right below him. A startling amount of potted plants encompassed the small landing. In less than a minute, she shoved enough of the plants out of his way and he released his cramping fingers off the drain pipe, landed beside her, and clutched his left arm painfully to his chest. The blood had made a mess of the entire left side of his body. Gasping for breath, they faced each other, shock evident on both their faces.

"You're bleeding! You were shot!" She gasped. Van's eyes widened in alarm and he shushed her with a quick glance at the dark balcony door. Her hand reached for his arm, but he pulled it away and shook his head.

"We need… to keep… going… Let's take care of this… later…" Van panted quietly. He stretched his aching back muscles and tried to peak through at the curtained door. The room looked completely dark. He checked the lock and nodded to himself. Cylinder lock. Easy enough.

"Okay," she agreed in a whisper. "This looks like an apartment."

"Let's hope they aren't home," he said as the screwdriver from his lock picking bag rotated the support screw from the door. "We'll have to get through this building to get down."

"You need to take care of that arm before we go anywhere else. It's bleeding badly."

Van glanced at his arm and saw a small puddle of blood growing on the balcony. "I'll be fine. We should keep moving."

"We're alive so far. It wouldn't hurt to see if there is at least a Band-Aid."

He rolled his eyes at the mention of something as simple as a Band-Aid and at the same time removed the lock from the door. Turning the latched handle silently, his mahogany eyes widened at faint sounds of men's yells echoing through the street and down the alleyway.

"Get in, get in!" Hitomi hissed as he slid the glass door open. Her small hands shoved him through and he tripped on the curtains. With a noisy "Whoa!" his foot twisted in the fabric and he collided loudly with a small bookshelf sitting along the wall. He landed on all fours on the floor covered in small paperbacks. He heard her slide the balcony doors closed and rush to him.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm thankful there were no hardbacks."

Her hands wrapped around his chest and she helped guide him up. Once he was standing on shaking legs, they waited together and listened while their eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. The tiny room was completely empty and silent. "Despite the loud entrance, looks like our luck hasn't run out after all," she whispered beside him. He glanced down at her just as she was looking up at him. She gasped lightly and let him go.

His skin felt cold where her hands had been. Even in the darkness, he could see a small blush had appeared on her cheeks.

"We need to search the apartment to make sure no one is here."

Van shook his head. "We shouldn't stay."

"You're not going to get very far with your arm like it is."

"They'll expect us to be here. We disappeared over the roof and now there's a convenient balcony. This will be the first place they'll look. Besides, I am kind of leaving a trail of red."

"Then don't you think we should warn whoever is in here that killers are coming and fix up that arm before you bleed out?"

Van exhaled and hated to admit she had a point. Shooting him a small, dimpled smile, she walked quietly past him and closer to the doorway. "You wait here. I'll search."

"Ms. Kanza- Hitomi-"

"If you need something to do fix the bookshelf. Let me be the hero for once."

Frowning in confusion at her statement, he watched her slip out of sight. Turning around, he grabbed a handful of books and stacked them on the small shelves. Bending down to pick up more, his vision gave a wavering twirl and he almost lost his balance. He closed his eyes and leaned his tan forehead on the edge of a shelf. Maybe she was right. He was losing too much blood to ignore the wound.

Giving a once over on the living room they'd landed in, he wondered if he should chance sitting on the small lavender couch without getting blood on it. Looking down at the cheap floor paneling, he grimaced at accumulating blood drops.

Probably not.

Lifting his shirt over his head, he hissed in pain. Gently wrapping the blood soaked fabric over the wound on his arm, he scuffed his shoe into the floor in attempt to blend the stains into the fake wooden floor. Van's mahogany eyes narrowed as the tip of his shoe hit a small stick that was stuck on the floor. Bending down with a groan, he touched a metal hinge that was painted to look like the floor. If he hadn't been trying to camouflage his blood, he wouldn't have noticed at all. He felt the floor. A thin line of a trap door.

Glancing around the quiet room, he stuck his fingernails into the door and pried it open.

* * *

Hitomi's green eyes searched the various rooms. She knew Van had a point and that the killers probably knew exactly where they were. Van's bleeding arm flashed through her mind and she winced. He needed at least a bit of first aid. The tiny one bedroom, one kitchen, one living room, and one bathroom apartment was completely empty. The short-haired girl sighed in relief and traveled back to the kitchen. Happy yellow wallpaper backed by yellow countertops and yellow chair covers sitting around a light brown table greeted her. She smiled at the horrible décor and started opening the equally yellow cabinets. It took her only three minutes to find the small first aid.

A loud banging noise from the front door made her jump in fright and knock over several wine glasses on the shelf. Closing the cabinets quickly, her panic made her hands shake. The door thundered again. She could hear the muffled voices outside it.

Hurrying to the living room, she gasped. Van's mahogany eyes leapt into hers and he pointed at the open trap door in the floor.

"How did you- what happened to your shirt?" she squeaked. The lean muscles on his arms and shoulders flexed as the door gave another ferocious bang.

"Ask questions later! Get in here!" he demanded in a tense whisper. Hurrying over, she grimaced at the small hole in the floor. It had several small cardboard boxes stuffed inside. Hardly enough room for two people. She folded herself inside and put the first aid under her legs. Her back pressed against a cardboard box and she realized if she shifted several over, she could lay flat. As she did so, Van jumped in behind her and crouched low to close the hatch. It snapped shut leaving them in complete darkness once more.

Trying to hold her catch her breath, she lay completely still as Van bent his back and grabbed a small handle on the hatch door to make sure it was securely in place. They heard the door burst open and several feet clamor inside. She jerked as his right hand grazed her side and his foot brushed against her ankle. She could feel the radiating warmth of his exposed chest on her body like a heater. The footfalls pounded into the living room and she felt Van lean further down on top of her. The tips of his shaggy black hair brushed against her collar-bone. She tried to keep her breathing quiet and steady, but the stress, adrenaline, and uncomfortable closeness of Van was beginning to take a toll on her mental state. Inhaling was coming in short gasps. Her leg twitched involuntarily against his. The strands of Van's hair tickled her chin as his head turn towards her. She jumped again as she felt his right hand reach up and touch her shoulder. He glided up to the side of her neck.

"Relax…" he breathed at her. "Relax…"

His fingers gently pressed and massaged the back and side of her neck. Her body tingling slightly, she gradually felt a warm, calmness wash over her. Her breathing began to level out and she closed her eyes against the wonderful pressure of his hands. Several footsteps boomed above them. Van shifted and massaged with his left hand on her other side. His fingers smelled like blood, but they felt wonderful.

She almost forgot exactly where she was at…

Almost.

It was at least thirty minutes; the thundering feet pounded back and forth on the floorboards overhead. The couch was tipped back, every cabinet opened, shouts of frustrations echoed back and forth. Van's fingers stopped caressing her neck as a calm set of footsteps clacked into the room and stopped right above their heads. She heard him swallow quietly.

"The lock was broken on the balcony door, so that means they were here. I found some blood drops on the balcony, but nothing else so far. There isn't a sign of them in here besides that."

"Your astute detective skills are always astounding to perceive, Miguel." A man answered. His tone was pleasant like he'd just shared a good joke.

"What do you suggest we do, Dilandau?"

There was a pause. "They are in this apartment, somewhere in the building, or in the surrounding buildings. I suggest you find them before I chop you up and bury you in the floorboards." The man laughed, but there was no humor in it. Van's fingers jerked against her skin. She slid her hand up silently to place it over his. Her heart skipped a beat as he interlocked his fingers through hers.

"I'll go with the men to search the next building over. This apartment is empty. If they are anywhere, they are probably hiding in the bakery next door. I'll post a man outside the front door just incase."

"See that they are found."

"Who is this man with her?" Miguel's voice was cautious as if he was afraid of asking questions.

Someone tapped their heels gently on the floor. "Mr. Van Slanzar de Fanel: No recorded living family. No wife or girlfriend. Got a job at Esca Construction three years ago."

"And before that?"

"The agency is on it. That's all they could give me so far."

"No living relatives?"

"Well," Dilandau let out a small chuckle. "There is a couple he is known to be in association with. Dryden and Millerna Fassa. I've been thinking about paying them a little visit."

Van's shoulders trembled and his fingers shook with hers.

_Allen…_

"No one can get a person talking faster than you, Dilandau."

"Your flattery won't stop me from killing you if you cannot find them, Miguel."

"Y-Yes, sir."

"Let the agency know I'm waiting for the files before I visit the Fassa's. Tell them to send me the files within the next five hours or I will act on my own."

"But, sir, shouldn't you-"

There was a quiet slicing noise and Hitomi's gasp was thankfully covered by Miguel's loud yelp of pain. Footsteps stumbled back towards into balcony windows and something heavy thudded against the glass.

"Do you like your appearance? Do you like the way your mouth compliments your nose and the way your eyes are framed by nicely shaped eyebrows? You have such soft stylish hair and smooth skin. I can make you even more handsome if you want. I can make you so handsome not only will you scream with delight, but you'll die with happiness." Dilandau let out a bark of laughter. "That was kinda cheesy, but I hopefully got the point across. What are you giving me that look for? You obviously came here to ask questions like you're at the damn mall with your girlfriends. Why don't we go ahead and get started on the make-over, okay?"

"I need to… get going…" Another thud bounced off the floor.

"No, no, no, Miguel. You wanted to ask me something while I skin your eyebrows off and make you eat them. You wanted to let _my prey_ escape further from me while I make you paint your clothes a beautiful red with your own fingerless hand. "

Miguel let out a whimper.

"No? You don't want to?"

"…No…" Miguel voice came out in a shaky whisper.

"Then get the hell out of my sight or I swear you will be holding those pretty little eyeballs in the palm of your hand."

The sound of their footsteps clicked away – Miguel's at a much quicker pace - and she heard a low muttering from the entryway. The front door shut and the entire apartment fell silent. They lay frozen together. Waiting. Hardly breathing. After about two minutes, she heard Van's foot shift into a cardboard box and his chest fell slightly on her. His forehead hit the floor near her ear and more of his body fell on top of her.

She swallowed and her heart skipped a beat as his breath disturbed the small hairs near the nape of her neck and shivers ran up and down her limbs.

"Sorry…" his voice was sluggish. He wiggled slightly trying to brace himself up once more, but his elbow collapsed and he fell once more. The breath left her lungs as his entire body pinned her to the floor with a dead weight. The hard floor hurt her back and the first aid box under her legs poked painfully.

"Van," she whispered strained by both the heaviness on her chest and the current situation. "I think we are safe for now. Maybe we should get out of this hole in the floor."

"I… I'm not sure it's a good idea to… to …" He trailed off muttering.

"You need first aid on your arm, we both can't move in here, and you are kind of heavy." She grunted. "The coast is clear now. We should at least try to get you to the bathroom to help clean you up."

"O-okay…"

She frowned in concern as he continued to lay on her. She unlaced her hand from his fingers and felt for the wound on his arm. A soggy piece of fabric met her fingertips and she exhaled shortly.

"You bled through this shirt! Get off of me! I need to help you!"

"Naria? I thought you went with the others…you're not supposed to be here…" his voice sounded faint as if he was in some sort of dream. She felt a stupid rush of jealousy washed through her.

Naria was a girl's name. Who the hell was _Naria?_

"Van, snap out of it and pull yourself together. We need to patch you up before you lose anymore blood!"

"Or is it Eriya? Folken will know which one you are. He is better at telling you guys apart than me…"

"Oh, God, this is bad." Hitomi breathed. Grasping his shoulders with her hands, she groaned as she tried to push him upward. He shifted only slightly off her. She wiggled, trying to free her legs. "Come on, super spy. You're supposed to be the strong one, remember? You can shoot guns and drive all fast and cool. So…" She thought fast, "… as President of the Super Spies and your commanding officer, I order you to roll over so I can get up."

"...Yes, sir…" Van murmured. To her surprise, he leaned to the right, his teeth clenching in pain.

"That's it, soldier." She coaxed, using her hands to help guide him as much as possible. "You need to lie on your back."

It took an awkward five minutes, but finally a panting and sweating, but triumphant Hitomi was Van-free, holding the first aid kit, and straddling his waist. She couldn't see his face, but she could tell from his hard breathing that he was slowly losing the battle with consciousness.

"Stay awake, soldier. We need you for the frontline." She knew she was saying nonsense, but he seemed to respond. A quiet, "yes, sir" answered her and she sighed in relief.

"Where is this handle?" Hitomi whispered to herself, reaching up for the trap door latch. She wrenched it open and looked down at Van's still body. There was no way she was going to move him by herself out of this floor. She'd have to patch him up right there with the cardboard boxes. She leaned close and tried to see his face, but the light was horrible. She needed a flashlight.

She set the healing kit on a nearby box and tried to calm down her rising panic. Shimming out of the hole, her heart pounded and her stomach twisted as her green eyes took in the living room. The lavender couch had been torn apart; the cushions shredded, the small entertainment center with the television was turned over and smashed. Even the coffee table was broken into splinters. She hoped the apartment's owner had insurance.

Pulling herself out of the trap door, she stepped quickly and quietly to the kitchen and pulled up all the yellow towels she could find from the bottom sink. She knew from treating 'nap wounds that tight direct pressure would be the best thing for him. Opening yellow drawer after yellow drawer with towels cradled in her arms, she prayed for a flashlight.

None.

She moved on to the cabinets she hadn't been able to check earlier. Bingo! A small blue flashlight was tucked away in the shelf above the refrigerator. Grabbing it, she flicked it on and relief hit her as a bright beam responded. Reaching into the bottom cabinets, she fetched a yellow bowl she'd seen earlier and turned on warm water. Running to the pantry, she scanned the shelves and her luck prevailed once again. A small bottle of cheap whiskey. Perfect.

"Shock, shock, he'll be in shock…" she said to herself, going through the steps of first aid. Stumbling trying to balance everything in her arms, she headed to the ransacked bedroom. Hitomi gathered up a butterfly printed comforter that lay sprawled on the floor, dumped the towels, flashlight, and whiskey on top and dragged it to the living room near the trap door. Heading back to the kitchen, she stopped the water and slowly walked with the heavy bowl spilling slightly. Setting the bowl down near the edge with the rest of her supplies, she picked out the flashlight and shined it on him. She held back a gasp. His entire left arm was matted with blood. It was a wonder why he hadn't fainted already. His tan skin had turned dangerously pale and she feared the worst.

"Van? Are you awake?"

"…where am I…?" His voice trembled with his body. His mahogany eyes squinted weakly up at her against the light.

"You're in the empty apartment in the floorboards." She answered as she lowered herself down into the hole and straddled him once more. She tried not to think about how awkward the position was. "Try to stay awake, okay? I'm going to take care of this arm. Do you know your name? Age? My name?"

He moaned weakly as he scooted his arm closer to her for inspection. The shirt left a blood trail on the floor. Picking up a towel, she wrapped it around the t-shirt and pressed against the wound. Van let out a small hiss of pain.

"Van Fanel. Twenty-seven. Kanzaki…" He answered through gritted teeth.

"What's my first name?"

"…Hitomi…"

"That's right. Good." Rising up slightly, she picked up the whiskey and towels and yanked the fluffy comforter into the hole. Several minutes of cumbersome shifting, she managed to tuck the comforter around the lower part of his body. Picking one of the smaller cardboard boxes, she raised his feet. Settling in a spot next to his side, she pulled his bloody arm across her lap. Letting the flashlight shine upright on a cardboard box, it created enough light to properly see the damage.

He looked horrible. The t-shirt wrapped around his arm was a bloody rag. She increased the pressure on the towel and saw the blood seeping through.

"Try to relax, Van. Stay completely still. You need to keep talking to me."

"What should I say?"

The green-eyed girl swallowed, reached up to pick up another towel, and asked casually, "Who is Naria and Eriya?"

Van's mahogany eyes sharpened and he blinked in surprise. "How do you know those names?"

"Relax, Van, I want you to stay calm. You called me Naria a few minutes ago. Who's Naria?"

"She is… someone from my past. From a lifetime ago…"

Hitomi sighed. "I believe you promised to tell me about that lifetime. Can't think of a better time or place."

"Is it really safe? Wasn't the assassin in here?"

"I guess you didn't hear them say they were going to check in other buildings. They said they'd post a man outside the building's door, so I figured it was safe to move around a little bit. I'll shut us back in here once I'm done fixing up your arm. For now, I want you to lie still and stay awake. I'm not opposed to slapping you in the face if you fall asleep on me."

"You seem to know what you're doing despite the harsh bedside manners." Van's lips curled into a small smile and his head rolled on the floor to look at her.

"Do you need a pillow?"

"That would be nice actually."

"Too bad."

His smile was replaced by a small frown. A quiet giggle escaped her before she could stop herself. "I'm kidding. I'll go get you one."

As she shifted to stand up, he made a small noise of protest. Glancing back down at him, she watched him swallow and murmur, "I'm fine. I don't need a pillow." His eyes were bright and piercing in the yellow light. Her heart picked up an unusual pace.

"If you insist," she said stiffly, trying to cover up her growing nervousness at his intense gaze. "But that doesn't mean you get out of tell me your story."

"My story…" Van's voice was quiet and he looked away. "My story…"

"You also said the name Folken."

His arm jerked in her hands and he gave a small yelp in pain. "Folken… God, what else did I say?"

"That I'm the most beautiful woman in the world," she joked trying to keep the mood light.

"Oh," his throat made a strange noise and he glanced away from her immediately. "I… s-see…"

Hitomi realized he missed the joke. She debated on correcting him, but decided she liked that he'd believed her. More than liked it, really. She fought both a smile and her blush.

That meant he thought it was true... right?

"So," She cleared her throat and asked, "who is Folken?"

She watched Van bite his lip before answering. "My… my brother…"

"The one you got the lock picks from?"

Van focused on the floor paneling above his head. "Yeah, he always was good at picking locks and getting into trouble. The army put it to good use as a code breaker. There wasn't a lock alive that could keep Folken out." A flash of pride brushed across his features. It was quickly replaced with a strange longing and sad expression.

"You said that you inherited his lock-picks…" Hitomi trailed off, unable to keep her question going.

"He's dead." Van said quickly. "Been dead for four years."

"I'm so sorry."

Though his voice was calm, his arm in her hands trembled. "Well, since I'm telling you this much might as well start at the beginning. My mother passed away when I was three; leaving just my father, my brother and myself. My father died the year before I joined the army, so it was basically like I had no where else to go. The only family I had left was my brother. Folken had already been in the army for two years before I decided to follow in his footsteps. As it turns out, I fit really well with the army. I wasn't considered anything special at my high school for sports and studies, but with the army everything was different. I hit the number one mark for stealth drills, worked through various situational strategies without breaking a sweat, and was elected leader of my training platoon. Eventually, my Drill Sargent began pulling me aside and giving me complex infiltration plans. It wasn't until later that I was told they actually used most of my plans for real missions. Then the GIA got involved." His head slowly swiveled back to look at her. "Within only a few short months, I was elevated from the standard training to special divisions training. In less than a year, I was given permission to pick my own small squad to use on stealth missions. I picked six people: Folken was in the last quarter of the code breaking special divisions program so naturally I picked my brother as soon as he graduated. He recommended Naria and Eriya – who were identical twins and knew more about modern machinery than most of the techs. They used spend hours arguing over various wrench heads to wires to proper spyware. They had also studied countless methods of mind verses body control. It was through them that I learned about pressure points. That massage I did to your neck? That was a technique Naria taught me."

Understanding dawned on her. "That's what you did to Gadeth, too. You calmed him by pressing on his wrist."

Van nodded slowly. "It's called Spirit Gate. It relieves nervousness and anxiety. Anyways, the next I recruited was Mole. I never learned his real name. Mole was his hacker alias. He worked a lot with my brother in code breaking. After him was Millerna, who you've met. I found her when I was touring the new recruits. She is the best sharp shooter I've ever encountered. I never forgot the day I came to visit her platoon, she spoke up and rudely corrected the Drill Sargent's elbow angle. She got latrine duty for a week after that for speaking out of turn, but she told me later it was worth every hour spent scrubbing those toilets. The last one I chose was my best friend. I met him the very first day I entered the army. He wasn't anything special as far as the army goes, but he kept me sane. Kept me focused. Kept me going even after I lost it. His name is Dryden, Millerna's husband."

Noticing the blood had stopped welling on the towel; Hitomi slowly set down his arm on her lap and reached for the bowl of water. "Lost it?" She repeated softly, keeping her eyes on his face as she grabbed a fresh towel and dipped it into the water.

"That's… well... I should keep going. My team was sent on several missions outside the country. Most of the time, we were used as a stake out squad. Gather information and relay it back to the GIA for analysis. With an expert locksmith, a professional hacker, two infiltrator mechanics, and a sharp shooter the missions were simple." Van's voice was tight and she saw the veins in his neck pop up a bit. "They were good at what they did. Maybe a bit too good. Folken was… difficult at times. Argumentative. He would question my authority on several occasions. I was so much younger than him and the twins and Mole. It was hard to get them to cooperate sometimes. But he was rash. Impulsive. They liked him better for it. His impulses were dangerous. He never thought through the plan."

"Kind of like me." Hitomi injected quietly.

Van was silent for a moment. "You had a reason to be upset with me before. Like you said, this is your fight. I shouldn't have tried to take over the situation."

"You have saved my life so many times I'm beginning to lose count." A sour guilt swirled sickly in her stomach. "If I hadn't run for the edge on that roof, you wouldn't have been shot. If I'd just listened to you and stayed in the car, you'd be-"

"You found out the Mayor was Caesar. If you hadn't come in there with me, we'd still be grasping at straws. If we hadn't gone to the orphanage, we wouldn't have met Gadeth and been able to warn the sisters. You have good instincts, Hitomi."

Hitomi swallowed and her stomach settled somewhat. "So… what else happened then? With your past?"

Van sighed. "I had was almost twenty-three when we finally got a mission for a search and terminate. The GIA discovered a spy within their lower ranks who was selling information to the Clans near the Wayward Sea. Before they could catch him, he snuck out of the country. Once we were on the mission, Mole tracked his movements through the network and he and Folken hacked the frequency wire he was communicating on. The twins bugged the wire and we were on our way. We zeroed in on his location within only a few short weeks: a small shanty house bordering the Arzaz Riverlands."

"He was hiding there?" Hitomi asked, continuing to wipe away the blood. The water was already a deep red. She was slowly working her way up to the makeshift pressure bandage she had made.

"I… I sensed it the moment I saw the shack. It was wrong. Everything about that place was wrong." He was whispering the words and no longer looking at her, but looking beyond her. His mahogany eyes were unfocused.

"What do you mean?"

Van hesitated. "I told the team that we should scan the wire again. Folken argued with me. Told me we'd been scanning the wire for weeks. Mole was on his side. Naria and Eriya agreed. Against my orders, they approached the shack, Folken in the lead. It was insubordination and in severe violation of a superior officer's direct orders. That's just who Folken was… who he had become. Millerna and Dryden stayed with me. Believed me." The black-haired man took a shuddering breath. She barely heard his next words.

"The explosion was immense."

Hitomi's mouth dropped open. "Explosion? You don't mean…"

Van closed his eyes and turned his face away from her. "The shack was a empty except for explosives that were set to go off as soon as a disturbance hit a ten foot perimeter. The wire tap – everything - had been bugged. They had been watching for us. Waiting for us to come after him. We'd fallen right in the trap."

"You mean your brother did," she whispered. "You tried to tell them. He fell in the trap, not you."

"I shouldn't have even let it happen. I should have seen through it. I was too confident in our skills. I was weak as a leader and it ended with his death."

A burn of shame mixed with pity shot through her. She remembered her 'overprotective complex' comment during their shouting match outside the Court House and wanted to slap herself. What a horribly insensitive thing to say to someone who lost his only living relative in such a traumatic way. Dropping the red stained towel, she carefully placed his arm on the ground, bent her head forward, and leaned her cheek against his chest. She both heard and felt his quick gasp. His heart beat a little faster as she lifted her arms and placed them around his shoulders in an awkward hug. His warm skin made her shiver.

"Hitomi…" She smiled as she felt his right hand touch the back of her head and stroke her hair softly. "Don't pity me. I didn't tell you this to have you pity me. You have endured much more than I have just these past few hours alone. This was years ago."

"I wanted to hug you. Get over it." She murmured. Van snorted quietly and continued to play with her hair. She turned her face so that she could glance up at his face. His jawline had tensed and she could see his heart beating strongly in his neck.

"So, what happened after that? To Millerna? Dryden?"

"We were dismissed from duty soon after the funeral. Despite Folken's disobedience, the GIA made it out that I wasn't suited for leadership. Millerna, Dryden, and I were released from our contract with the government. Dryden and Millerna got married soon after and moved to Austuria. I… traveled as much as possible for several months, but as money got tight and my depression grew, I tracked down Dryden and found him running a small bar downtown. Dryden pulled some strings and got me the job with Esca Construction. It's been three years since then."

"And this afternoon you were approached by a man in the bar with my picture and a sack full of money." Hitomi released him, straightened up, and moved his arm back into her lap. Her cheek felt hot from his skin. She wondered if he had a fever. Shifting a bit, she pulled the comforter higher on his waist.

"Was that really only this afternoon?"

"I know. It feels like it's been days."

"Weeks."

"Haven't I known you for about a month now?" Hitomi joked as she carefully unwrapped his arm and reached for the whiskey. She shook the alcohol in another clean towel. "Try not to move and keep yourself calm. This will hurt a bit. If you know those mind-body calming techniques, use them on yourself."

"I'm not sure it works that way, but it's worth a shot. Speaking of shot, you got that judge pretty badly back theeee- ahhhh..." Van let out a small moan as she pressed the towel against his wound. His eyes watered and his breath quickened. Feeling the wound on his arm, she was relieved to see the bullet had passed through muscle and meat.

The short-haired girl tossed her bangs on her forehead and smiled. "Told you I can shoot a gun. And now that I know Dornkirk is Caesar, it's only a matter of time before he gets the same treatment."

"You need to keep running. I'll can report Dornkirk to the GIA. They'll take him out."

She quirked an eyebrow. "The same people who dismissed you for a mistake you didn't make? Are you sure they'll believe us? He's been a beloved public figure for years. He's considered the 'Austurian Grandpa'. We have no proof except for my word."

Van turned his eyes to the wooden ceiling and his eyebrows creased with thought. "I just remembered something."

"Remembered what?" She asked, adding more alcohol to the bloody towel. The wound was deep, but it was a clear shot. Tight bandages and maybe drinking the rest of this whiskey would set him on the path to recovery.

"I was watching the news earlier this afternoon in the bar. They were reporting about the motorcycle accident. Probably one that you caused. But there was something else. The reporter… she said something about the Mayor giving a speech tomorrow."

Hitomi's hands froze.

Van didn't notice. His mahogany eyes narrowed as he searched through his memory. "It was to be in front of Austuria's National Museum… he was going to plead with the senate to give the ADP more tax funds."

She swallowed and tried to keep her voice steady. "Did they say what time his speech would be?"

"Two, I think? I'm not sure." He smiled gently at her. "Like you said, it was a long time ago that I saw it. It just popped into my head randomly."

"R-Right," her heart beating furiously in her chest, she ducked her head to concentrate on his arm.

And to hide her inner thoughts from him.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Hope you tune in for the next chapter!**

**blue...**


	4. The Hunt

**Everyone is going to hate me. This chapter was just too long to handle it. I had to divide it up. I feel so bad for doing this, butthis was just growing and growing. This next chapter will be the last one. It will tie everything together. Now I know that some readers will be like, "WHAT THE HELL!" when you get done with this chapter and trust me, I said that to myself as I wrote it. But I figured that this will make everyone waiting like crazy people for the next update. **

**This chapter is brought to you by the music from Skyrim - especially the song Solvengard. It's so tense. It was perfect for several scenes. **

**Please, don't hate me and just enjoy the insanity that is this chapter.**

* * *

Five hours.

The illuminated clock on his dashboard clicked eleven minutes past six.

The modest houses in the small neighborhood slowly brightened to lighter shades of blue; announcing the arrival of the beautiful morning to come. A small bird sang sweetly in a tree next to his passenger side window. Sitting in a small black Toyota Camry instead of his cop cruiser, Dilandau leaned his silver head against the head rest, his unusual red eyes blinking in the clear morning. His body was relaxed and his heart beating at an even tempo.

But he was no longer smiling.

A minute past five hours.

Reaching with long, lazy fingers, Dilandau gently typed his phone's password and logged in to the agency's message board. The familiar message lit up on his phone's screen and he tilted his head with almost a thoughtful expression on his face. If one didn't look in his eyes, they would have assumed he'd received a message about something trivial, unimportant-boring even. But, with one quick glance at the red-tinted fire that burned and frothed behind his wild eyes, one would fear that this would be the last thing they ever saw in this world.

He stared at the message as if in a trance. The screen flashed twice before disappearing with an auto-lock system. Placing his phone quietly on the seat next to him, the message's words twirled before his eyes like the lyrics of a never-ending song.

"_Information request pending. Standby for further instruction_." The words danced and twisted together in his head until only two words remained in the dizzying spin.

The two words he'd despised the most in this world.

_Pending… Standby..._

_Pending… Standby…_

Five minutes past five hours… no, now it was six…

_Pending… Standby…_

The only message from Miguel was three hours ago stating no sign had been found of either Fanel or the girl in the surrounding buildings. Dilandau entertained himself briefly with the image of Miguel carving lines in to his own smooth face with a dull knife and he felt a twitch of a familiar smile grace his lips. He could practically taste the terror the man would radiate. The imagined shrieks of agony twirled with the words of his agency's message.

_Pending… Standby…_

His scarlet eyes twitched to the digital clock. Nine minutes past five hours… the clock showed 6:20.

_Pending… Standby…_

His mind clicked back on the bar scene last night and his faint smile instantly vanished. A riptide of murderous heat flew behind his red eyes. He'd approached the small tavern hoping for a quick in and out mission. Seek out the target and eliminate. But… The control was gone. Dilandau's entire mission was turning into one of the biggest failures to date. His target had gone missing for an embarrassing length of time with no hope of discovering her whereabouts. She had a man with her whose background was still a mystery. A man who willingly stood in front of his target and had constantly dodged all of Dilandau's efforts.

Did his agency actually blame him? Did they think he was inadequate because he failed to recognize the fraud at the bar earlier? Was this his punishment? Waiting?

The silver-haired man gritted his teeth behind his lips and the muscles tensed on his arms. How dare they punish him! How dare they think they could ignore him!

_Pending… Standby…_

What if they sent another assassin in his place? What if the target was taken out before Dilandau could find her? How could they do this to him?

He was the top at the agency. No one had ever questioned him.

No one had ever tried to stop him… but…

_Pending… Standby…_

Dilandau slipped his phone back into the holder on his belt and flicked his poisonous gaze to the quiet house on the other side of the street. It was a simple one story. Small rosebushes lined the side of the modest whitewashed porch that surrounded front door. The small scarlet flowers contrasted so brilliantly with the whiteness. Like blood drops on snow…

He'd given his agency five hours.

He had waited fifteen minutes over.

Nothing.

No new message.

_Pending… Standby…_

Slowly, his lips curled into his comfortable pleasant grin. He flicked his thumb on the clip and checked the ammo count on his HK53 SMG. Nodding, he picked up his small duffle bag on the floorboards.

* * *

Millerna stifled a yawn as she flipped the bacon in the pan and watched Chid scoot his kitchen chair closer to the dinner table; his blond hair full of bed head cowlicks, but his blue eyes wide with interest. The bigger blond sat beside her son and colored ferociously with a black crayon on a blank sheet of paper. Dryden's pajama t-shirt was too short on Allen's long arms and his midriff showed slightly even when sitting down.

Despite his childish complaints, he'd sourly complied when she'd demanded he wear his own pants to sleep in. She doubted any pant size she had in her possession would fit him properly.

Chid had woken at his usual crack of dawn to find the large blond man sitting on the couch and already watching cartoons on their television. After a brief introduction, which included her son hollering at the top of his lungs about a burglar in the house, the two of them had soon settled into a strangely comfortable silence in front of the television. The _My Little Ponies_ cartoon erased any of Chid's lingering distrust for their mysterious guest as a conversation about unicorns soon turned into an animated debate.

Hence, the current breakfast-time art fest.

"What color should I make the horn?"

Chid thought for a moment. "How about rainbow?"

Allen frowned at his crude drawing and slowly nodded. "Rainbow sounds good, but what about if we leave it white? A unicorn's horn is usually white."

"It'll blend in with the panda's fur."

"That's true." Allen smiled at Chid and the boy grinned back. "Rainbow it is, then."

"You might need to make the panda rounder. Pandas with unicorn horns are still pandas, but with horns on their heads."

The blond man made a silly face and Chid let out a small giggle. "Pandas with horns. We need to think of a better name than that."

"You boys want scrambled eggs with toast?" She called out.

"Yes, ma'am," they answered in unison. She stifled a bubbling laugh.

This was too precious.

Wrapping her pink bathrobe tighter, she traversed to the fridge to pluck out several eggs from the plastic carton all the while listening to the silly chatter of her son and his new best friend.

"Okay, so the name should be Pandicorn. Does he have special powers?"

"You mean besides being a panda with a horn?"

"Yeah, not all panda's have horns. It has to be special."

"But Allen, it already has a horn. Why does it need anything else?"

The blond man gave the child an exasperated expression. "_Because_ it's _magical_!" He dropped the black crayon on the table to wave his long fingers in the air as if casting a spell. Millerna accidentally let out a snort of laughter as she cracked the eggs in the still-hot frying pan and began to stir the broken yolks.

"What powers do unicorns have? Maybe the Pandicorn can have some."

Allen lifted a hand to count on his fingers. "Let's see… they heal everything they touch with their horns, their blood gives eternal life, they can run at fast speeds, and they are distant cousins to Pegasus."

Chid grabbed a red crayon and colored in the tip of the horn. "What if when the Pandicorn stabs someone with its horn, it turns them into a unicorn?"

The blond man's smile widened and his blue eyes danced excitedly. He slapped Chid gently on the back and roared, "Like a unicorn-producer! It makes unicorns!"

"Yeah!" Chid grinned happily and turned to Millerna. "Mama, what does 'producer' mean?"

"It means you are the reason daddies can't sleep. You are the product of loud noise. Thus, the 'producer'." A drawling voice came from the entryway and Millerna looked up to see a bleary-eyed Dryden yawning into the kitchen from the hallway. Tilting her head and smiling at the tired man, she watched him rub his soft brown eyes behind his square glasses. Dryden's usual ponytail was a mess, spilling about his shoulder with stringy, fuzzy curls.

"Honey, you want eggs and toast as well?"

"Yes, ma'am," her husband crossed the tile floor and poured a cup of coffee from the brewer.

"You sure caffeine is wise? I can quiet them down and let you go back to sleep."

"I'll try to get another nap in before I open the bar later. Besides, our guest shouldn't be here for too much longer, right?"

The woman bit her lip. "Actually, Van never said how long Allen will be staying with us. All he said was he had something to take care of at the Court House and it had a whole lot to do with some guy named Caesar and motorcycle races that have been happening these past few years."

Dryden took a sip from his mug and leaned on the counter next to her elbow. "Should have known Van would involve himself in one of the biggest conspiracies of the decade and drag us in with him."

"You know Van. At least he's leaving us out of the fighting this time-"

"Get down!" Allen's sharp and uncharacteristically manly yell caught her off guard and she saw him tackle Chid to the floor. Less than a second later, the blond man yanked on the large, rectangular, kitchen table with inhuman strength, crashed it on its side, and ducked behind it for cover. Her blue eyes widened as the old yet familiar crackling sound of bullets whistling through the air leapt all around her. Dryden's strong hand grabbed her arm and wrenched her down behind the countertops just as a bullet slammed into the frying pan in her hands and knocked it on to the floor. With a quiet scream, her face pressed against Dryden's chest, his arms protectively covered her head.

The slugs continued to pound with a silent force into all of the kitchen appliances with a sporadic ferocity. Pieces of tile and chunks of ply wall flew through the air and pelted the floor. The entire back wall of the kitchen began breaking down with each ramming slug.

Suddenly the piercing loud gun stopped and the blond woman lifted her eyes to meet Dryden's wild brown eyes. His body was taut like a tight string, yet his body trembled violently. Deep, irregular breaths of a panic attack gripped him. Unlike him, Millerna's blood rushed with the challenge of this new adversity. Standing up to life-threatening situations was something she'd thrived in. Four years ago, she'd taken on each new mission with a sense of overpowering confidence. Glancing at her husband, she had always known Dryden was the soft-hearted one out of the two of them. He still had many nightmares from their days in the GIA, some that he shared with her – others he had not. He never admitted it to her, but he'd left the service with many mental scars. He was frozen now. Deep in the memories that haunted his nightmares.

Meanwhile, Millerna's mind was clearer than it had been in years. Clear and sharp with fury.

The assassin had come for them like Van had said.

And she was the only one who would have to take him down.

Her lips met Dryden's briefly before she wiggled out of his arms and pressed her back against the kitchen cabinets. Bare feet slipping in hot half-cooked eggs, she reached up to slide open the drawer next to the washing machine.

The cooking knives. Perfect. She took four.

A rainstorm of bullets once again assaulted the kitchen and Millerna's blue eyes narrowed as she judged the direction of each slug. Weighting the make-shift weapons in her palm, she estimated the blade versus handle weight and instantly calculated where to aim and how hard to throw. She backed away from the safety of the kitchen counter and crouched low to the floor. Dryden was watching her in the midst of his shaking anxiety. His long arms were wrapped around his torso. She took a deep breath to steady her own growing fear and mouthed "I love you" to him. Tossing him one of her old confident smiles from back in the old days, she saw his frosted brown eyes thaw a little. She wiggled out of her bathrobe and gooseflesh raced up her arms as the air conditioning hit her thin nightgown. Her hands remained steady with anticipation.

She was the Millerna from four years ago. The mother and wife she'd become disappeared from her mind.

Jumping instantly to her feet after the next round of ammunition, Millerna rapidly hurled two knives towards the gunman and ducked once more behind the counter. She had barely seen the man's body or position and had thrown the weapons with instinct. A satisfying scream of pain answered her attack followed by shouted obscenities. The bullets stopped and a loud clunking noise battered on the floor. She heard shuffling footsteps crunching rapidly on the ruined kitchen tile. A loud cry from a familiar voice made her heart seize in fright.

"Come out, you bitch, or the boy gets it!"

"Chid, no!" Allen's deep voice was full of tears. Millerna stretched to look over the counter. A man so blond his hair looked silver was standing shakily next to the kitchen table that lay on its side. Blood ran down the right side of his chest and looked sickeningly bright against the man's white t-shirt. Chid's head was pressed against the man's waist; his throat exposed to a bloody knife grasped in the man's shaking fingers.

Holding two more knives tensely at her side, she slowly stood.

"Drop the knives."

She didn't move.

He pressed the blade tighter to Chid's tender flesh. The boy let out a whimper of pain. "I said, drop the knives!"

She dropped them from her hand and they clattered loudly to the floor. Her brain was in a standstill. Her baby's beautiful face cried to her.

Just like that, she was snapped back to her current self. The mother and the wife.

Finally caught in her own personal nightmare, her confidence was shot.

Shot completely to hell.

"Don't move! Don't even think about moving! Tell me what you know about Fanel!" The panting man practically spat the name at her. "Tell me everything! What has he been doing since four years ago? What is he planning next? You know him, right? So, where is he?"

The man's shouting hardly phased her shocked mind. Her blue eyes filled themselves with her captive child. Opening her mouth, she couldn't speak.

"I'm waiting, bitch! If you don't start answering my questions by the count of ten, I'll slit his throat so deep you can swim in his blood, you understand me!" His shaking knife pricked the side of Chid's neck and a small weep of blood ran into the boy's pajama collar. Tears dripped down the boy's smooth cheeks.

"P-P-Ple-Please…" her voice shook so horribly the words sounded like gibberish.

"You know where he is now, don't you?! Tell me where he is! Tell me where he is hiding that piece of shit girl he's with!"

"I-I-I don't-"

The man's silver hair dropped slightly into his face and she saw – despite the heavy breathing from his wound – his lips were starting to curl into a small smile. "One…two..."

"Wait! I-I-I'll tell y-you! Va-Van is… H-He's a…"

"… five… six…"The man's face was transforming. His unusual red eyes glinted happily and were the same color of the dripping blood on his shirt.

He looked like a demon.

A smiling, evil demon.

"Van was part of the GIA!" She shouted shrilly finally finding her voice. "He was part of the government! He used to be an agent! Please, let him go!"

"Keep talking. Seven…"

"Why are you counting?!" Hot tears ran down her face as she tried to catch her breath. "I'm telling you!"

"I said keep talking about _FANEL_! EIGHT!"

"We were all a part of a small special divisions group! We got let go four years ago! He's no longer part of the GIA! He told me he discovered the plot to kill Hitomi through a mistake. A fluke. Someone handed him her picture last night!"

"I know all of this! You're not telling me what I want to _know_! NINE!..."

"Oh, God, please! I don't know any-"

Her ears heard the sharp _pang_ before she could register what had happened. The silver-haired man's red eyes rolled backwards and he dropped the knife before falling unconscious onto the dirty tile floor.

Standing behind him was Dryden. His brown eyes clear and strong.

A frying pan with bits of crusted egg on the bottom was gripped in his hands.

* * *

Friendly eyes gleamed out from an old wizened face as Dornkirk stepped out of his simple three-story house and strolled into the crisp morning to the driveway. With a charmingly crooked smile, he nodded at the young female pawn standing next to his white BMW and the girl opened the door for him. With a grunt, he superficially labored with bending his long thin body into the back seat and made sure the door didn't catch his snowy white beard. As the door shut him into his comfortable car, his smile continued to bloom.

A male pawn, a small black scarf covering his collar, got in on the passenger side and the girl got in the driver's seat.

A small beeping noise resounded from the Beamer's phone system and the girl asked listlessly, "Call from Private Line, use the code?"

"Please."

Another small beep came from the system and the man announced, "Code confirms the call is from Zaibach headquarters."

Dornkirk's smile faded slightly. "Put it through."

The female pawn pushed a small 'answer' button on the screen. She turned back to pull the car out of the driveway and on to the empty street.

A nasally voice came over the speakers in the car. "Good morning, Caesar. An update on the current situation: The Agency failed to locate the girl. She was last seen roughly six and a half hours ago. The agents found the bodies of Master's Nicolas Jackson and Anderson Michaels. They also have lost four men of their own. Five other Masters have been reported to be in critical condition with gunshots wounds."

"I know all of this." The old man sighed. "What have they been doing to find her?"

"They have scouts searching a mile wide perimeter of the Court House."

"Obviously she is no longer near the Court House if it has taken this long."

The man on the phone was quiet for a moment. "The Agency says they are doing everything they can to-"

"I don't care about words." Dornkirk raised a wrinkled hand and waved it in the air as if brushing the excuse aside. "They can say anything they want, but the truth is, they let her escape and have lost her. They had one job and they failed."

"They have an idea of where she might be headed. The assassin in charge of originally terminating her found where they have been keeping the wrecked pawns. They've been trying to free them from the collars. He reported a hidden tunnel connecting to the outskirts of an old orphanage to the north of the city. The Agency is willing to terminate the wrecked pawns for a reduced price. They are on the line waiting for your authorization."

Dornkirk's white eyebrows raised a fraction. "I see. Well, that's good news. They lose my initial target, manage to get Jackson dead before my greatest victory against the GIA, _and_ are willing to discount me for my trouble." He let out a bitter laugh. "I'd like to know where my 50K went if they are playing with the topic of discount prices."

"What should I tell them, sir?"

Still chuckling under his breath, he leaned against the seat and smiled. "By all means, let them finally do something right for once."

There was another pause. "I have confirmed it, sir. They will begin tracking the escaped pawns within the hour. I'll send you the verification of termination as soon as they contact me again."

"Beautiful girl," Dornkirk said pleasantly to the driver and she tilted her head slowly to listen to him. "Take me to a busy coffee shop. I suddenly feel like making a public appearance before my speech. Shaking some hands, kissing some babies."

"Caesar, if you don't mind me saying so, it might not be wise to give this speech today. The target went after Jackson. There is a possibility she may know who you really are."

"Rodger Mackmore and his 'pawn'." The old man snorted under his breath. His old eyes gleamed as a plan bloomed exquisitely in his mind.

The nasal voiced man swallowed audibly, "Sir?"

"I'm not worried. Just make sure the documents Jackson left behind are settled."

"Sir…"

"She probably knows who I am. In fact, I'm counting on it."

"You can't be… You aren't going to use yourself as bait to draw her out, are you?"

"I've always been her target ever since those two started sneaking in my games. With this speech, I am planning on publically supporting the Protection Plan that Jackson set up for me. The girl will know this if she's the one who killed Jackson. She can't let such a moment pass her by. Caesar… right before her eyes…" Dornkirk lifted his thin shoulders in an unseen shrug. "Kill her publically. Two birds with one stone. If she knows who I am, then she'll die in a blaze of a publicized assassination attempt. If she doesn't, The Agency will eventually hunt her down and kill her. Call The Agency back and tell them to send forty of their agents to get uniforms from the Commissioner."

"What good would killing her publically do?"

"Come now, boy." The old man said with a touch of his charming grandfatherly voice. "Use the brain I know is in there somewhere. I can use her assassination attempt as a way to prove the APD is just as strong as it always has been. In protecting their Mayor with such quick precision from a rogue assassin, they can protect the citizens of this city without the GIA. After that display, the VOP will have to sign the Protection Plan. Make sure to tell The Agency to surround my podium for the speech and stake out the entire perimeter. I'm sure they will be willing to do so in order to fulfill the contract they've botched up. Killing the one who was going to kill the 'Austurian Grandpa'. The media will go nuts for it." His warm smile slipped back on his face. "In trying to stop me, she'll just further increase my hold on this city. Beautiful irony is God's greatest pleasure to mankind."

"Sir, this is going to be dangerous for you. Are you sure?"

"Sir… Mr. Mayor… Mayor Dornkirk of Austuria…'Austurian Grandpa'…" Dornkirk recited slowly and let out a small chuckle. "Get the Commissioner in on the plans. Tell him Caesar's about to play his biggest move yet."

* * *

A small light flickered in his mind and it responded with a wave of sharp pain. The darkness crept over the light, but it bravely battled for consciousness. A voice snaked through his blank thoughts; waking him a little more.

"He's coming to, Dryden."

"About damn time."

The growing awareness also increased the pounding on the back of his head. A sharp pain bloomed in his shoulder as he shifted his back. His red eyes snapped open as the images of a destroyed kitchen flooded his mind. An airborne knife that had flipped expertly and embedded itself in his lower shoulder; forcing him to drop his SMG. Dilandau let out a groan as a surge of unexpected vertigo twisted his insides. Clenching his eyes against the roller coaster feeling, he noticed another dull twinge of pain on his wrists. Swallowing down the rising bile in his throat, he cracked an eye open once more.

"Hello, cutie." He tried to focus on a spinning vision of a blond woman leaning towards his face. "Good to have you back in reality. I've been waiting for this."

"Now, Millerna, let's make sure our guest is nice and comfortable." The deep voice came from a brown-haired man leaning against the doorway to his left. Dilandau flicked his red eyes around the room. The back of his head brushed against several colored coats. With a gasp, he tried to move his arms and legs and realized he was tied to a small kitchen chair. They'd strapped him into a small closet. The only light was a coming from a tiny bulb attached to the ceiling that glowed a brilliant pale yellow. Immediately feeling the back of his teeth with his tongue, he sighed at the hole in his gums. They'd taken his cyanide pill. He focused again on the bending woman in front of him and forced a smile through his dizziness.

"I'm glad to see our guest is enjoying himself."

"You caught me." He said pleasantly with a groan.

"Enough of this pleasant guest shit." The blond growled and pulled a knife to Dilandau's throat. He felt the blade prick his neck slightly. Despite the pain that shot from his shoulder and head, his heart beat rose – not with fear – but with pleasure. His blood rushed with desire for her to stab him. To take the knife and slice it ferociously into his skin, shredding his flesh, spilling his blood.

She must not have seen the ravishing glow of craving behind his red eyes for she continued her intimidation like it meant something. "You threatened my _son_, you bastard, and you're going to die for that."

"Not before we get some_ answers _from him_, right_?" The man emphasized his words and the blond gave a short huff. Removing her knife, she continued to glower at Dilandau. It was obvious they'd had an argument about this subject right before he'd awoken.

The silver-haired man smirked and pulled on his wrists slightly. They were bound professionally with a handcuff knot. His shoes had been removed and both legs were strapped together tightly. He noticed the rope was securely wrapped around his torso and traveled down to his knees, binding him fully to the chair. His smile widened considerably.

"Guess you want me alive a little longer then. Too bad I'm not very good at answering questions."

"Well, you see, that's the thing," the man straightened up from the doorway and bent down to fiddle with an open bag sitting on the threshold of the closet. His duffle-bag. The brown-haired man pulled out a small bottle with a lopsided grin. "I wouldn't have thought you'd be one for carrying sodium thiopental. This looks pretty neat." He raised the bottle closer to his bearded face as if inspecting it. "Mixing ethanol into it could have some major results. A lot of truth serums I'm familiar with are more hallucinogens. This looks a lot more advanced. Interesting."

Dilandau wanted to laugh. If that bastard unscrewed that lid without a mask on, they'd all be under. Pity he'd never be able to taste that woman's fury. He was looking forward to a good bloody end.

"Thiopental… the GIA had that program that was been trying to adapt a more inspiration element into their truth serums while we were still in it, remember, honey?" The blond woman just smiled in reply. "They were trying to create a type of fast acting truth serum. I'm guessing this little guy is the final product of that research."

The smile immediately slipped off Dilandau's face and the craving for a bloody death faded from his mind. He felt his shoulders and hands shaking in the bindings. His fingers were cold and clammy. His breathing became heavier. He swallowed and hated the gulping sound it made.

It sounded so much like weakness.

The brown-haired man just laughed at him. "Wanna know what gave it away? I found a very helpful gas mask in your bag. When I let you take a good whiff of this, you'll tell me everything I want to know, including how you got this information from the GIA. Even if you try, you can't help yourself. I'm actually kind of excited to try it."

Dilandau didn't say a word. He didn't need to.

"We also found this fancy cell phone in your pocket." The blond woman continued from her husband, though her words were not calmly said, but spat at him hatefully. She pulled out Dilandau's agent phone and held it in front of his face. "You got a new message three minutes ago. Why don't you hold on to it, Dryden, and maybe our _guest _would be so kind as to give you the password."

Millerna held up the phone and the brown-haired man gracefully plucked the phone out of her fingers. "What a wonderful idea. I think we shouldn't delay any longer. Millerna, honey, I'd love some alone time, so I might need you to take care of the boys outside for a bit."

"Of course, sweetheart. Have fun, okay?" The blond woman smiled with obvious pleasure as she straightened up and turned around to leave.

"Oh, and one more thing, baby. Hand me my old cell phone before you go. I think it's time to contact some of my friends in the GIA and let them hear this with their own ears."

Millerna nodded and reached over to grasp a hand on the door.

Dilandau's heart raced – no longer with ravishing pleasure – but with a bitter, trembling feeling. It made him sick. Sicker than when he was feeling the vertigo. The Agency would brand him a rogue for going against orders and getting captured. He'd be hunted.

_Pending… Standby… Pending… Standby… _

Why? Why did they make him wait? This wasn't his fault! The Agency made him stop the hunt! They should have just let him keep going! The brown-haired man just watched him with bemusement. Leaning against several small boxes, he pushed his long curly hair off his shoulder and smiled at Dilandau.

Dilandau couldn't smile… He couldn't…

It may have been minutes, but it felt like hours. The woman came back with a thick black cell phone that looked several years old.

"Here you are, Dryden." She shot a quick smirk at the tied man and shut the door once more.

"Isn't she sexy? God, I love that woman." The man named Dryden sighed. "Welp, on to business, shall we?"

Strapped to the chair, he pulled uselessly on his bindings with a small cry erupting from his throat. This only seemed to make the brown-haired man even happier. The demon man loomed over Dilandau's silver head like a towering giant. The image kept shifting, swaying, altering from past to present. From his childhood boogie-man to this monstrous man before him who was pulling on the mask. His mask. Dilandau's only means of protection.

Dilandau finally realized what was making his hands and shoulders shake, his heart throb horribly, and his body grow cold with each passing second. It was the emotion he'd cut from his mind for so long. It was the emotion he drank from his targets.

Now the brown-haired man was carefully unscrewing the bottle in the small room.

And Dilandau felt it.

_Fear_.

* * *

The first thing to break through her comforting oblivion was the smell. It didn't hold the soothing aroma of her vanilla scented candle she always lit by her bed in her small apartment. It had more of a strange iron twinge. Like the orphanage hospital room. Like blood. Frowning with her eyes closed, she realized her right hand was completely numb. She'd slept on it weird again. Typical. She was always doing that. Shifting a leg to change position, she kicked a strange object which made a loud thud on the floor. It sounded like a box.

Wait. The floor.

She was on the floor.

Her green eyes snapped open and she immediately sat up with a gasp, banging her head against the floorboards above her. Her neck cricked and she groaned at both the pain in her neck and on her forehead. Reaching up to rub both spots, she noticed a man was lying right beside her and she almost screamed. The memories of the night before came flooding into her brain and her heart rose with panic.

The assassin! The Court House! Caesar was Dornkirk! She had to call Balgus! An image of Balgus' crumbled body washed over her and she felt nauseated. That's right. Balgus was dead. So was Grandma Nina. The Orphanage had been evacuated. Allen was with Van's friends.

_Van…_

She turned to glance back at the still man beside her. His long black hair was spilled around his head, his chest rising slowly with his deep breaths. His right arm was outstretched on the floor and had served as a pillow for her head. She exhaled slowly and gazed around the dimly lit hiding place. There were the small rolls of bandages she'd used to wrap his wound sitting beside her. The first-aid kit still laid wide open on a cardboard box beside his left arm. The flashlight that had burnt out from a full night of being turned on stood in the corner. Judging from the light coming from the floorboards above her head, it was late morning.

Her green eyes turned back down to Van. The empty whiskey bottle was lying on its side above his head. His steady breathing indicated he would be out for a little while longer. With nothing in his stomach, he'd passed out almost as soon as he finished the whiskey. She let a small smile fall on her lips. Who knew he'd be such a lightweight? Or maybe it was just the physical exertions of last night. Or the loss of blood he's endured.

She'd needed rest as well.

But she was awake now.

And she had something she needed to do.

Fierce anxiety filled her and she shivered. Her hands began to shake and grow colder. She remembered what he'd said last night.

Dornkirk… 2pm… Austurian National Museum…

Fixing her eyes on his bandaged arm that was resting contentedly on part of the butterfly comforter, she tried to calm down her rising fear and nervousness. He was in no shape to come with her even if she wanted him to. Van still needed proper medical care. She'd done the best she could to stop the bleeding and to keep out infection, but he was obviously very weak. There was no way he would survive. Not something like this.

"It's time. This is my only chance to take out Caesar before he can strike further. I know who he is and where he is supposed to be. You would never let me go there, would you?" She whispered to his comatose face as if Van could hear her. "You'd forbid me to leave this hole in the floor. You'd want to protect me everywhere I go. But you don't understand, Van. It's like Balgus said, 'one bullet.' That's all it takes to win this. This is my destiny..."

If it was her destiny, why did it sound so much like an excuse? She lifted a cold hand and allowed her fingers to slowly hover over his strong, tan jaw and travel up to his thick, black hair with a feather-like touch.

He didn't stir.

With an almost defeated sigh, she shifted closer to his warm body and lay beside him. Bracing herself with her left elbow, she leaned in to study the sharp profile of his face. She followed the shape of his relaxed eyebrows, long eyelashes, nose, all the way down to the small muscles lining his bare shoulders. She raised her right hand once more and placed it on his chest over his heart. It beat slow and steady. The heat of his body immediately sucked the cold from her and warmed her fingers. Lowering her head, she settled on his naked shoulder and curled her body against his. Her green eyes looked up into his peacefully sleeping face.

Safe. This was safe.

"Van, I never told you something. It has to do with my past. It's important, so don't interrupt." She smiled at her lame joke as he remained oblivious to the world around him. "I was once told from a self-acclaimed psychic that a hero would come and save me. I always just brushed it off as Grandma Nina being frivolous. You never met her, but she was a big nagger. She kept complaining at me to get a proper job, find a boyfriend, have some children. Probably in that order." Hitomi laughed bitterly to herself. "But there was this one time she came barging into my room in the middle of the night. She announced I'd have a hero that would protect me from all of this. She told me that she'd had a dream of a man who would come to save me when I needed him. This was years ago. Balgus always told her she had ate the wrong end of a bean burrito to have a dream like that, but she kept insisting it was a vision. She described her vision to me that night when she had it. She said she couldn't see his face, only his shadow, standing behind me, protecting me. She said his arm was wrapped around my waist, holding me against him." With the memory, a harsh burn appeared behind her eyes and her breathing became unsteady. "I would have never thought you'd come, Van. I wrote you off years ago. I kept wishing that you'd be here, but within months I had doubts. Maybe you would never come. Or I hadn't put myself in enough danger to finally trigger the vision. I don't know." Hitomi nuzzled her cheek against his warm skin. "But you came… you actually _came _for me. You held me like that. In the janitor's closet. I should have realized it then."

A tear spilled down her cheek and she moved her hand from his chest to his tan face. He didn't react to her touch, but kept breathing evenly in his sleep. She felt encouraged and stroked the small stubble on his chin. A sense of boldness gripped her and she slowly ran her thumb over his lips. He exhaled deeply and she felt the warmth of his breath on her hand.

"As soon as you stepped on my porch, I should have known. As soon as you saved me in your truck or held my hand or almost kissed me at the red light or fought with me in the alleyway or saved me from falling or calmed me with one simple touch of your fingers, I should have realized it. I'm an idiot. Maybe things would be different if I realized it sooner. Maybe it wouldn't. Who knows…?" She trailed off as more tears spilled down her green eyes and rolled onto his bare skin. "Your story, your past, you've been alone for a long time. Blaming yourself for something you tried so hard to prevent. You are so strong and yet so fragile and so _real_. You were always just a silly joke all these years. But now that the vision has come true, now that I have met you and realized how wonderful and brave and… a-and… this decision that I've made. To go after Caesar by myself… This is suicide, I know. But I can't have you put yourself in danger for me anymore. You are just an innocent bystander who got swept into my problems. I wish Grandma Nina had never had the vision because then I wouldn't regret what I have to do. Because I just don't… don't want to leave you alone anymore… I don't want to leave you!"

She scooted further until her head was just below his chin and cried quietly on his chest. Her sobs hardly made a sound, but the pain in them was practically overwhelming. She cried for her loved ones – dead and alive - she cried for herself, but most of all, she cried for Van and the pain she was about to put him through. No matter what she said now, she knew he'd blame himself for not being able to protect her.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She whispered thickly. "Please don't come after me. Please don't get hurt anymore for me. It's time I do this on my own. You've protected me enough. You're lying here, wounded and bleeding, and all for what? Because of me. Enough is enough. You don't have to be my hero. You don't have to have this destiny Grandma Nina dreamed up for you. Please, please choose to walk away when you finally wake up. Hopefully, by the time that happens, everything will be over. For Caesar… and for me…"

Lifting her head, she moved to lean over his face. Her short brown hair fell forward, creating a small curtain between them. Her nose inched closer to his, her green eyes spilling tears on his peaceful features. Glancing down at his lips, she swallowed her nerves and closed the gap. She pressed her trembling mouth against his and held the sides of his face with both of her hands. Her fingers played with the bits of hair at the back of his head as her face tilted slightly to deepen her kiss on his unmoving lips. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. A white-hot longing for him to kiss her back caused more tears to drip from her eyes.

_If he was awake, would he kiss me back? Would he beg me to stay with him and not leave? And if he did, would I abandon everything I've worked for these past years just for a man I hardly know? Would I run away from everything just to be with him and the safety he provides?_

She was afraid of her answers to those questions.

She was afraid of how she could fall so quickly. So deeply.

She pulled back and stared hard into his closed eyes.

Not even a flutter of an eyelash.

Leaning further away, she sat on her knees and wiped at her cheeks.

She'd kissed him and made a good memory. One last good memory to file away before the end.

"I know I'm walking to my death, so I want to let you know something, Van." She gave a shuddering sigh and wiped more tears away. "This is so sudden. I mean I hardly know you. But… but you have so quickly become someone I truly care for. Not just because you've saved me. Not just because you are supposed to be my hero." She lowered her head to let her hair hand in her face. "God, I'm an idiot. I'm such an idiot. I think I'm in love with you, Van. I'm actually in love with you…"

The confession hung in the air and was swallowed in the silence that followed it. Breathing in deeply, she felt for her resolve inside and found it barely hanging on a thread. Grasping onto it with desperation, she looked up with clear, determined, green eyes.

Without a moment's pause, Hitomi gently grabbed Van's right shoulder and leg and – with several grunts and one small curse – turned him over to the side.

There. His pistol. She yanked it out of the belt of his pants and winced slightly at the bright red mark it'd left on his bare skin. He should have told her the gun was poking into his back. It suddenly became one of those strange moments in life when something became funny that really wasn't that funny at all. Hitomi laughed quietly at the deep imprint of the gun's handle on his lower back. Shaking her head, she knew she was probably on the verge of a breakdown. Crying one minute, confessing her love to an unconscious man in another, laughing the next.

Rolling him back over, she straightened his left arm carefully back on the comforter. Ejecting the clip out of his gun, she saw three bullets.

Every shot counted.

Smiling warmly at his unconscious face as she pushed the magazine back into the pistol, she whispered, "We both are idiots, Van. Maybe that's why I'm so attracted to you. That and you look pretty good without your shirt on." Leaning forward one more time, she gave him another kiss. This one was shorter, but as she ran her thumb over his cheeks, she felt him twitch slightly.

It was now or never.

Pushing on the handle of the trap door, she gave him one long, memorizing look before shutting the hatch back in place.

"I hope you're dreaming of me."

* * *

The people at the coffee house crowded around him like dogs to their master. Dornkirk gave his best grandfatherly grin as he touched hands with men and women alike. The rumble of excited voices, the waves of hands reaching for him, the obvious love for him that shined through their eyes. Several young children playing in a small park next to the cafe pushed their way to the front of the mass and one tugged on his pants leg.

"Hello, there, little one." The old man warmly ruffled the kid's head. The little boy, his hair a tangle of silky black curls, smiled shyly up at him. Dornkirk stopped and slowly crouched in front of the child.

"Do you know who I am, son?"

The boy nodded. "The Austurian Grandpa."

"Would you like to work for me someday?"

The child blinked and glanced up at the male pawn standing over Dornkirk like a shield. "You mean like him?"

Dornkirk followed the boy's gaze. Turning back him, he placed his wrinkled hand on the child's thin shoulder. "Exactly like him. He's cool, isn't he?"

The boy's mouth fell open in awe. With a slight nod, he whispered, "He looks like a superhero."

"You'll grow to be a strong man someday. You'll defend the city with your strength. I bet you'll be the strongest, bravest man in the city."

The child's thin face stretched into a wide toothy smile. "I will! I will, Mr. Grandpa!"

The old man laughed and ruffled the boy's hair once more. "Please, call me Dornkirk."

"Mayor Dornkirk! Mayor Dornkirk!" A pretty female reporter pushed her way into the delighted masses surrounding him. He smiled brightly at the young boy and straightened up with the help of his pawn. The woman waved a microphone in her hand and Dornkirk nodded to his bodyguard to let her through. The blank-eyed man stepped aside and she stretched her microphone through to catch his voice. "The rumors of your speech today are taking the news media by storm. You made quite a harsh statement against the individuals responsible for the motorcycle races in your speech yesterday. What could you possibly have planned today?"

"My dear lady, that is for you to find out in about two hours." The old man said happily. "I want to go ahead and tell you that I am all for encouraging the VOP to vote on this GIA decision after I am finished with my speech. In fact, I'm hoping they have their stamps already inked." He winked at her and her beautiful face immediately answered with a charming smile.

She was beautiful. Dornkirk made a mental note to get her name later.

"Many Austurians think the GIA's involvement in the investigation will save more lives. Why are you so against it?"

"I've been asked this question so many times and I always appreciate getting asked it again." Dornkirk laughed. "I want the people of Austuria to know that the APD has their back. Austuria can and will protect Austuria. The police are here for the precious citizens of this city. The Gaia Intelligence Agency has been known to accept spies with questionable backgrounds into their ranks before. They want to snatch the control they lost four years ago by taking away the power of the people."

"You mean the power of the police-"

"My dear lady, go get yourself a latte and wait for me to start my speech. Every question will be answered."

With that closure, the old man allowed himself to be swept away by the adoring crowd. One woman lifted a little girl on her shoulders and Dornkirk waved to them both from the throng. The woman blushed and the pretty child gave him a big grin. All around him faces smiled and cheered his name.

This was paradise.

This was being Caesar.

* * *

Holding the gun steady to her chest with one hand, Hitomi tried once more to pull down the small blue tank top she'd found in the apartment. Changing from her bloody t-shirt seemed like the best plan. She'd probably want to blend once she hit the streets. Unfortunately, the only shirt she found that looked remotely normal hardly covered her stomach. The woman that lived in the apartment must have been half her size.

_Oh, well, _Hitomi thought, giving up on making the tight shirt meet her belly button. _It doesn't matter if I'm modest or not. _

She squared her shoulders and took the last step on the bottom of the dark stairwell. She knew there was a high chance that a guard would be waiting for her at the front of the building. With a deep breath, she knew shooting the guard would cause way too much noise and would waste a precious bullet meant for Caesar. A sudden memory crept into her mind. Van had said that buildings over forty feet had to have at least four emergency exits. This one… though small, probably had a back exit somewhere.

Sneaking to the wooden door in the gloomy darkness of the bottom floor, she crept to the door and peaked out the small square window. Yep. There he was. She studied the man's bulky muscle mass and realized she probably couldn't take him.

She sighed quietly. Well, time to bring out the inner ninja.

Watching him yawn and roll his neck, she also noticed the streets were quite busy. Cars driving by, pedestrians crossing the street, laughing, shopping. She could blend perfectly fine. A back exit was the best option. Would he see her coming out? Would he recognize her?

Leaving the door, she made her way to the back of the building. Sure enough, a minute of silently opening doors, she saw the red exit sign with both a jolt of relief and anxiety.

"Okay, Hitomi, you can do this." She told herself. "Just act like you know what you're doing. You're good at blending in. I mean you've done it enough with the 'naps and racing. It's the same thing, right?"

Opening the door, she stepped out into the smelly back alleyway and swiftly turned the corner. She looked up immediately to see the balcony that had saved their lives. Despite her mounting apprehension, she smiled softly at the green leaves of the various potted plants littering the balcony. Van had held her hand so tightly while they hung on the drain pipe. He hadn't wanted to let go, but she had made him. Just like now.

"Goodbye." She whispered and her heart thumped horribly in her chest. Screwing on a calm expression she didn't feel, she boldly strolled out of the alleyway and instantly turned right to avoid crossing the guard's path. She waited for the warning shout. She waited for the bullet in her back. She waited and kept walking. No one looked at her. She blended in.

Her fear didn't stop until she rounded the corner of the street. Then she allowed herself a small victory smile.

Now to Caesar.

* * *

His mind was a blur of both the past and future. At one moment he was a child looking up from the dirty ground. He cried at the feet of the man he had always tried to please. The man who never loved him. The pain in his shoulder and head no more than a dull ache. As a child, Dilandau had learned to smile, even though he didn't feel like it. Despite all pain, he'd smiled. Maybe then his father would be pleased with him. Maybe his father would love him.

Other times he was old and weak, strapped to his wheel chair and decrepit. His father transformed into his god of death, waiting judgment and payment. His dark wings spread wide; trying to swallow him whole. The fangs itching for his exposed, wrinkled throat. Dilandau could not move. He could hardly breathe. The sweet scent of his father's cologne wafted around him. His father was his reaper. The demon. The one he was both trying to please and plead for his soul with.

He hardly knew what he said. He just spoke, words tumbling out of his mouth like a spout of water. He said whatever the demon wanted. Whatever his father wanted…

And then it was over. The demon opened the door, turned off the light, and shut it.

Dilandau was left alone. All alone in darkness. Faintly, he felt the strange pain in his joints, the skin around his wrists rubbing raw. His head swirled with images of dark. The coats behind him were hundreds of hands. Ones that wanted him like the demon. His death god had left him in the hands of these ruling spirits. He wanted to scream, but couldn't. He wanted to claw his eyes out, but his hands were now being held by strong, small arms. A strange jingling noise from the bracelets of the spirit rang in the air. Looking behind him, he gasped at a woman's face, her wild hair matted with blood. She blinked at him with one eye, the other half of her face missing.

Then another pair of wrinkled hands gently caressed his cheeks. He turned his red eyes behind him to a smiling face staring straight at him. Her face was close. He could smell her dead breath. Rotting.

Her friendly grin began to change into something crooked. A small raise of her lips transformed her face into a lopsided hungry look. The deep slice on her neck dripped red down her dark robes. Her pale face shining with anticipation.

The Mother Superior.

She'd come from Heaven to destroy him.

An arch-angel.

The warrior angel of death.

God had come for him.

With a strangled cry, Dilandau twisted his wrists and fought against the hands that held him. She wouldn't get him. God couldn't catch him. He was not a man to go down without a fight. Evil spirits, angels, death gods. They can all try to have him, but he would never let them.

Screaming, Dilandau ripped his bleeding hands as the strong fingers finally broke their hold on him. Shielding himself from the spirits, he quickly untangled himself from the bangle arms that held him to his chair. He felt them back away into the further recesses of the closet. Falling forward off the chair, he hit the door. It bounced open and he sprawled on the carpet floor with a grunt of pain. His head swam, his body howled with agony and fear. Turning over, he saw the spirits watching him from the closet, their eyes glowing white.

Dilandau gaped as one spirit reached out and pinned his feet together with one hand. The large strong ghost crawled out of the closet while the others waited behind.

He wasn't smiling at him like the mother superior. This one had the face of a demon…

The man… the man who was with the girl before. The bigger man at the house. The one who he'd shot in the kitchen. He was clasped on Dilandau's legs, his large body growling and snarling, ripping and pulling at him. The blood from his large stomach pooled out of his body. The red liquid dripped out of his mouth and down his thick jaw. The old man's touch felt like ice and the cold crept through Dilandau's pants to freeze his skin. Slowly, the man began to pull Dilandau back to the closet. Back to where the hands awaited him.

"You won't get her… You'll never have her…" The old man whispered as his head twisted slightly. He yanked on Dilandau and the other ghosts raised their arms out of the doorway as if to help the phantom. "I won't let you have her…"

"No… no, I won't… I won't get her!" Dilandau whimpered. "Please, I promise. I won't!"

"It's too late, sweetheart. God has judged you…" The abbess' voice was sweet and soothing, yet it burned like daggers in Dilandau's ears.

"We've come to take you…" It was wild-haired woman now.

"You'll never have her… I won't let you take her…" the old man chanted, pulling Dilandau even closer. The silver-haired man screamed and kicked. The man's white eyes had filled with fluid as if the ghost was crying. "She has a destiny. You shall not interfere."

"You shall not interfere…" the abbess repeated.

"You shall not interfere…" the wild-woman whispered. "We won't let you have her."

"NO!" Dilandau shrieked and kicked at the old man's hands. Leaning forward, his bloody fingers clawed at the man's thick arms. Screaming, he felt the old man's hands slowly releasing their grip on his legs. He kicked and squirmed and wriggled. One by one, the old man's strong fingers weakened.

The last finger fell away and Dilandau crawled quickly until his silver head hit a lamp stand on the other side of the wall. It fell and broke. His red eyes watched the heavy old man's body slowly sink back into the shadows of the closet. The other spirits watched him. All their eyes white, dazed over with death.

"You shall meet a bad end, sweetheart." The Mother's voice echoed out. It was faint… distant… "Come with us and we will take care of you."

"Like hell, I will!" The silver-haired man bellowed back, his hands clutching for the fallen lamp. "S-stay away from me!"

The dark spirits in the closet were slowly fading away. Dilandau's breath was coming in short gasps. A desperate relief washed over his entire being and he collapsed on his side. Dropping the lamp, his arms wrapped around his body protectively.

One by one, the white eyes disappeared showing only coats inside the closet. The last to vanish was the old man. The one who had held him. The one who had tried to drag him back in.

"I'll be following you…" The old man's voice ripped into his brain, yet it was hardly more than vapor. "You may have escaped now, but you'll meet me again."

Dilandau was shaking, crying. With trembling arms and legs, he pulled himself up and took several shaking steps. Opening the front door, the sun was too bright for his eyes. His heart pounded sickly and he vomited into the rosebushes on the porch.

Straightening up after a few minutes, he felt his head clear slightly. He still shook with fear, but now he remembered… the truth serum… this is what it did to people…

What power…

What wonderful power…

Still crying, Dilandau's mouth twisted itself.

And he smiled.

* * *

A small beam of light hit his closed left eye causing the darkness to turn blindingly red. Van groaned at the strange pulsing headache that followed. Damn, he was thirsty. He was always this way after drinking. Breathing in deeply, the back of Van's head gave a small jolt of pain in his neck. Breathing deeply, he sat up and his head collided painfully with the ceiling.

"Ow!"

Wait. The ceiling.

Where was he?

His mahogany eyes snapped open and he glanced all around him with confusion. He was in a small space with cardboard boxes. A bloodstained butterfly comforter covered the bottom half of his body. Several rolls of bandages, a first aid kit, and a flashlight were scattered all around. Feeling a dull throb in his left arm, he lifted it and his memory came rushing to him.

The assassins! The gunshot! Hitomi!

Van gasped and almost banged his head again as he lifted himself to search for her.

She was gone.

A sense of horror filled him. Where was she?

Kicking out of the comforter, he lifted the hatch with his right hand and squinted in the bright daylight coming from the windows.

"Hitomi?" He said her name as loud as he dared. "Hitomi? Where are you?"

Silence answered him.

Pulling himself out of the hole with a groan, the room around him spun dangerously and he had to catch himself on the floor. He'd lost a lot of blood last night. And… looking back in the hole, he noticed the empty whiskey bottle. She'd gotten him to drink it after bandaging him up. Closing his eyes briefly, he remembered telling her his past with the GIA. She'd acted completely normal. Why would she leave? She couldn't have gone without him, right? He had told her he'd protect her. What was she thinking?

"Hitomi?" He asked the apartment again.

Nothing.

Pulling himself to his feet, he shuffled from the hatch door, his mahogany eyes searching the apartment. Did she go to the bathroom? Checking through the door, he saw nothing. Kitchen? No Hitomi.

"Hitomi!" He called out.

A memory of last night swam before his eyes. He'd said something… Dornkirk… he'd told her about Dornkirk's speech. He'd told her all about it.

"What time is it?" He murmured, his voice cracking weakly. He almost collapsed once he glanced at the small round clock in the hallway.

Twenty minutes past one.

She was going to Dornkirk's speech at two.

"Oh, God…" He shook his head almost drunkenly. "Hitomi… damn it…"

Another horrible wave of dizziness struck his brain and he had to hold onto the wall to stop himself from falling over. "Shit… What do I do?" Reaching back, he felt for his gun. Missing. She'd taken his gun.

"Breathe, Van. Breathe." He said to himself. "First… first thing we need to do is get a shirt…"

Stumbling out of the kitchen, he made his way to the bedroom. Shifting clumsily through the upturned drawers, he growled in frustration. A wave of tacky pink sweaters, pink underwear, and yellow pants, but nothing big enough for him. Moving to the closet, Van pushed through dresses and shoes.

He had almost settled on a small white dress that would fit him like a frilly shirt when he saw a box in the corner that gave him a shudder of relief.

It was labeled: _Ex-boyfriend's crap._ Van pulled it out and shifted through it. A wrinkled black t-shirt with a skull on the front greeted him and he happily pulled it over his head. Careful of his bandage, the black-haired man stood and checked the clock once more and immediately felt sick. Did that really take fifteen minutes?

Feeling an even more sense of urgency, Van rushed out the door and down the steps. Charging through the front door, he startled a muscled man standing near the doorway.

"You!" The man yelled reaching for a repeater pistol strapped to his side.

Despite the loss of blood, the adrenaline kicked in and Van punched the man hard in the face. The guard's head cracked on the brick wall behind him and he slid down the wall in a daze. Glancing around at the busy pedestrians, Van bent and hit the man again. He saw his body go limp and the black-haired man began unbuckling the gun at the man's belt.

Straightening up with a groan and a new gun, Van's mahogany eyes nervously searched the faces of those walking by as he tucked the pistol down the back of his pants. No one saw a thing.

Glancing in the downtown area, Van went as fast as his body allowed. His heart pounding with every step.

And every step rang her precious name in his head…

_Hitomi… Hitomi… Hitomi…. Hitomi…_

* * *

Dilandau swerved like a mad man, passing car after car. The highway was cluttered and he pulled onto the left service road. Zipping back into traffic, he pressed the gas and the Camry let out a small groan as it accelerated. Flicking his red eyes into the rearview mirror, he felt a jolt of fear and instant relief. He'd sworn the old man was there. Watching him from the backseat. Just waiting…

"You'll never take me, old man." He whispered. "I'll blow her to hell."

Dragging the wheel to the left, he took a sharp exit towards downtown Austuria.

"I'll get her… just you wait… I'll make you watch as I blast her apart." The spirit – if he was there – didn't answer. "You hear me, old man!? I'll blow your bitch away!"

Yanking the wheel straight, Dilandau stopped short at a red light and growled at the cars crossing his path. His red eyes glared murder, hatred.

Death.

Suddenly, as if by fate, Dilandau looked to his right.

And it was magic.

There he was.

Van Fanel running on the sidewalk.

* * *

Feet shuffled loudly as the numerous nuns and 'naps marched through the dripping, echoed underground tunnels that led out of the Orphanage. Merle shifted her tired and sore shoulders and brushed her vibrant colored hair out of her eyes. Glancing around the dark, slime-covered walls, she swallowed down a feeling of apprehension and continued to lead the four 'naps in her care. Two held her hand tightly and two others grabbed the edge of her black sleeves.

"Keep holding on to my robe, Julie." Merle whispered as she felt the small hand let go of the fabric at her wrist. Julie let out a small bit of undecipherable gibberish and moaned loudly. The poor girl had been rescued only three months earlier and was still hurting from a fractured wrist and sprained kneecap. Merle was thankful the girl didn't fight her and kept going regardless of the pain, but it seemed like the poor 'nap was almost to her limit.

"Keep going, everyone! We are almost to the outside!" A strong voice echoed down the tunnel from the front. The small nun sighed gratefully and tried to beat down the bad feeling rising in her stomach. Her heart pounding heavily, she frowned at her unnatural bout of anxiety.

"Sister April," Merle called out to the nun in front of her. "Can you see the end of the tunnel yet?"

"Not yet."

The girl wailed loudly and Merle tried to shush her gently. "Please, Julie, you'll be alright. Calm down, sweetheart-"

A popping so loud it rocked the tunnel bounced into her ears. Merle gasped, but it was drowned out by the piercing screams of 'naps.

Gunshots…

* * *

**What an insane cliff-hanger. I kind of hate myself. lol!**

**I hope you enjoyed, even though you probably hate me now. **

**It was posted with love and hard work. :)**

**Thanks to everyone!**

**blue...**


	5. The Fall

**Thus the last installment of my little - but totally not little in any sense of the word - mini-break/series/whatever this was comes to an epic ending. **

**I'm sad to say goodbye to this incredibly thrilling ride. Like usual, I have a song that goes with this chapter. **

**Enjoy the insanity of this chapter. To all my loyal readers, to all my newcomers, to anyone who clicked on this randomly, even to those few who clicked on this and then clicked away in disgust-**

**Thank you. :)**

* * *

The crowd was larger than she expected. The excited murmuring of the bustling bodies outside her alleyway made her sigh with mild relief. They would be a good cover for her, but it would be a nightmare if civilians were caught in crossfire. It depended on how many men Caesar appointed to guard him. Several loud male voices called out to one another. She listened with attentiveness to the engineers and tech crew fiddling with the microphone system on the large, half built platform. It rested on the marble steps of the towering museum. She couldn't see properly from where she hid. Biting her lower lip, she knew she'd have to leave her alleyway if she was going to try and study her surroundings properly. It was a gamble if Caesar knew she was coming for him. Maybe he didn't know. Maybe he hadn't put any protection on himself.

There was only one way to really find out.

_Alright, Hitomi, _she thought, clenching her fists with determination. _Just step out and then back in. No big deal. They can't tell you apart from the crowd that easily._

Taking several shaking steps forward, she tried to make her face as excited as possible to blend with the happy crowd. Behind her wide grin, her green eyes danced intensely over the massive eight-story masterpiece in front of her. The tell-tale giant statues of the great guymelefs lined the very top of the beautiful, classically-shaped building; symbolizing the guardians of Gaia. Her eyes left the guymelefs and began traveling to the various windows lining the walls.

Right side? Nothing. Left side? Still nothing. Bottom floor? Not even a shadow. Twisting her head calmly from the right side to the left, she checked the various brick buildings and shops that littered the street.

Could it really be true? Her heart rose.

_So, he doesn't expect me… _

A whisper of movement drew her sharp gaze back to the moralized robots and she almost gasped as her stomach churned with horror. An almost invisible line of small, skinny black shadows were moving slowly and inconspicuously back and forth from underneath the stone capes of the mechas; combing the streets around her. Backing away immediately into the deepest part of the alleyway across the street, Hitomi pressed herself further into the brick wall and tried to catch her failing breath. The tight blue tank top was damp with her nervous sweat. She wrapped her arms around her body and shivered. Her hands were freezing cold.

Sniper rifles.

So, they _were_ waiting for her.

Caesar knew.

Swallowing, she turned her sharp eyes to the backs of the various heads that stood just outside her alleyway. She bit her lip harder, making herself bleed. No one else even seemed aware of what was going on. No one was looking up at all. Everyone was watching as the platform's support poles were screwed together. Idle excited chatter rumbling in mass waves. Hitomi wanted to growl at herself as frustration and fear pulsed hot in her veins. A sharp burn appeared behind her flashing green eyes.

Everyone here was in danger because of her. Was it too late to turn back? How was she going to live with herself if she was the cause of innocent deaths?

_You probably won't survive anyway_. Her mind reasoned and she lifted a hand to wipe away an escaping tear. _You're stupid, Hitomi. Now is not the time to lose your cool. You are better than this. After all you have been through… after all that you've done… all that has been sacrificed… 'naps have died before while you tried to save them. Accidents happen. Don't lose your cool._

She leaned forward and sent a furtive glance towards the assassins on the rooftop. Holding her breath, she stepped slightly from the darkness to judge the platform. Ten feet off the ground, give or take a few inches. That would save her from hitting anyone with a stray bullet. The technical crew had begun working on the sound system. Aside from the growing crowd, Hitomi swallowed nervously as she noticed that the number of police surveillance had doubled within the last few minutes. Their eyes swung left and right like the snipers, searching the crowd. The uniformed men and women surrounded the platform like a human fence. She'd have to sneak carefully through. She suddenly wished she'd taken that hoodie from the apartment closet. Even if it was too small to zip up, hiding her face could be the difference between life and death.

_Caesar is very thorough. _

Seeing the shadows of the rifles scanning the mob at the top of her vision, she instantly backed away once more and pressed her body flat on the wall.

She looked down at her small, shaking hands.

"It's time to finish this." She encouraged herself with a fierce whisper.

A large squeaking feedback of the microphone made her jump.

"_Testing… testing…. One-two… one-two..."_

Flashing lights of four police vehicles pulled up on the road that was being blocked off and Hitomi's heart thumped wildly. In the middle of the cop cars, a shiny black Beamer with government official flags waving merrily on the sides stopped next to the platform. Pushing off from the wall, she watched with quiet green orbs as two 'naps– a male and a female – stepped out of the front seat. Simple black scarfs covered their collars, but she had seen enough collared people to tell, even from far away. The lack of human in the way they controlled their bodies. The unnatural straightness of their back. Their cold indifference to anything and everything around them.

The male turned and opened the passenger door. Her eyes couldn't leave from the old, gentle form of Dornkirk. His long beard swaying in the afternoon wind, his fresh suit tailored to perfection, his smile reaching those kind eyes.

Rage burned her, taking away her fear of death. This was it. This was her destiny.

The stage was set, the large crowd was growing quiet, and the short-haired girl took a willing step closer towards the entrance. Out of her hiding place and into the huge throng of innocent people. The sun fell on her skin, warming her body. Reaching back, she pulled the gun from her pocket and switched off the safety.

Three bullets…

For Balgus. For Grandma Nina. For Allen. For the beautiful souls of the 'naps. For the pawns still trapped in the arena. For those she couldn't save in the races. For the future.

For Van.

_Showtime._

* * *

The honking of cars, the loud idle chatter of pedestrians, and the flourishing shops of downtown Austuria fell into a strange mingling ambience in his foggy mind. Van focused on his breathing; the training of his past forcing him to naturally jump into self-preservation mode. Calm the mind. Slow the heart rate. Keep an easy pace. Trying not to think of the time quickly ticking away, he couldn't stop his heart from squeezing in fear and anxiety. Lifting his blinking mahogany eyes, he read the traffic signs above his head.

_Sapphire Lane _and _Valrie Street. _The museum was about eleven blocks from here following down Valrie Street. Gazing down the bustling sidewalk, Van almost groaned.

That was a looooong way.

Swallowing down a sour bile building in his throat, stars winked around the passing cars and hurried people. A streaking black shadow encroached further on the sides of Van's vision and he unwillingly staggered to the right to lean against a display window. His legs couldn't go any further. His feet refused to take another step. Several civilians carrying shopping bags gasped in surprise as he pressed his forehead into the cool glass and braced himself with his hands. He hardly noticed the red smear of blood he left on the glass. Sticky sweat stuck his new black shirt on his tan shoulders. Trying desperately to keep his balance, he clenched his tan fists in frustration as the world took a strange dive.

Well, this wasn't good.

Glancing down with fuzzy narrow eyes, he noticed the bandage on his arm was red with blood. He'd opened his wound again. He'd unthinkingly punched the guard at the apartment door with his left hand. What a stupid thing to do.

Biting back a curse, Van closed his eyes for a brief second in attempt to stop his spinning world. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. They should have planned something together. What could she be thinking? Was she trying to catch the Mayor without his bodyguards somehow? Was she going to sneak in while he was up on stage? She probably didn't have any clue what she was getting herself into. A sliver of dread and panic mixed with his already fragile state.

A flash of her smooth clear face pierced through the growing black.

She must have known that the alcohol would knock him out. Shaking his head, Van knew he'd known it too. He hadn't been thinking clearly. If he _had_ been thinking clearly, none of this would have happened. He wouldn't have fallen so deeply asleep and let her slip through his fingers.

Who was he kidding? He hadn't been thinking clearly ever since he'd met her. No. Before that. When he was handed her picture. It was as if everything in his world had completely changed. He was shoved head first into a world he'd never known existed. Into a conspiracy that was happening right before his eyes. Right before everyone's eyes.

A sharp pang hit Van's heart like a piercing arrow.

Hitomi was going to die.

And he was once again too weak to help. Too weak to save those he cared about.

What was he going to do?

"Hitomi, you idiot," Van panted. His heart hammered in his chest and beads of sweat ran down his face. A feverish chill rushed down his arms and up his spine. "Like _hell_ I'll let you die-"

A loud honk and a "Get out of the road, moron!" behind him caught his attention and he turned his dazed mahogany eyes to the hectic street. Van's brain seemed to freeze in shock as a flash of familiar white-blond hair dazzled in the afternoon sun. The man smiled lazily at him while strolling confidently in the middle of the street; closing the gap between them. Cars squealed to a stop. The man didn't even flinch as a large truck twisted into the lane next to him to avoid hitting him. He walked straight and tall, his shoulders calmly relaxed. The red in his eyes as vibrant as poison; completely focused on Van. His lips twisted the grin larger on his pale face as their eyes met.

"Shit…"

With heavy feet, Van staggered as fast as he could, using the wall on the right to brace himself. Blood seeped out of the bandage on his arm and dripped on the concrete. A universe of stars winked in his eyes and his head throbbed with terror.

The assassin had come.

* * *

Dilandau grinned widely as his eyes caught Fanel's. His blood rushed with thrill at the obvious fear in his prey's face. Dilandau immediately picked up his pace and stepped easily on to the sidewalk. "It's one of my mice. My sweet little mouse. I'm coming for you…" His red eyes stared excitedly at the familiar messy black hair that weaved in and out of the huge crowd of shoppers and business suits. Blinking as the noon sun flashed in his face, he reached back to unclick his sharp folding dagger that rested on his belt. Flipping it open, he kept the sharp blade at his side; his thumb running gently along the razor edge. His body ached with a sharp hunger to drive the dagger into flesh. A rush of pleasure washed over him as he watched Fanel's body hobble in desperation. He was already wounded.

The silver-haired man almost laughed as Fanel stumbled on a loose stone and fell on his knees to the concrete. This was too easy.

Dilandau was now only ten feet away.

Eight…

Five…

Fanel's entire body was trembling. He struggled in vain to rise, but his legs were obviously giving up on him. Dilandau saw his shaking fingers reach back for something tucked in his pants. His red eyes glinted as he raised the knife steady and focused on a perfect stabbing point on the man's broad back. Licking his lips, he could already taste the iron blood that would spill from Fanel's corpse. The death would come easy, but Dilandau knew he would continue to stab him long after. He'd make Fanel a mangled unidentifiable mess. He'd rip him open for the entire world to see.

Three feet away…

Fanel shifted on his knees and turned to face him; his mahogany eyes dazed with horror and fragility. Dilandau felt the familiar cold whisper of a hand brush against the back of his neck and what he saw made him stop short.

The skull…

The white skull on Fanel's black shirt.

It was hidden in the shadows of the fabric like it was ripping itself from the darkness. The pale boney face was smiling; its skeleton grin piercing out of the front of Fanel's chest. It was coming for him.

The dark closet full of dead.

The abbess' rotting hands reaching.

The wild woman's voice calling for him.

The sun glinted on Fanel for a moment. A second. The dark holes in the skull's eyes were brightened in the sun. A pair of lidless, white eyes instantly appeared in the empty sockets.

Watching.

Waiting for him.

Taking one step back, Dilandau stood in a captivated horror as the skull's white features warped.

Mutilated.

Morphed into a familiar spectral face. One that Dilandau had both been waiting for and running from.

It was him.

He was waiting! He was with Fanel! This was a trap!

With a sharp cry, the silver-haired man slashed wildly at Fanel's chest. Fanel backed away just in time and managed to stagger to his feet. Dilandau's stomach turned, his heart seemed to coil in his chest. The skull's smile was growing! The face becoming clearer! The visible eyes in the skull's face were glazed over with death.

"Get away! Get away from me! I'll kill you!" The words tore through Dilandau's throat. A familiar popping noise hit the air like thunder. Swinging the blade, Dilandau hardly noticed a sharp spike of agony race through his abdomen. His dagger missed Fanel again. The skull laughed the deep voice of the old man. He was laughing! Laughing at him!

"You're dead! You're dead and you aren't taking me with you!"

The popping noise happened again. A blooming unbearable pain burned Dilandau's insides. His fingers dropped the knife without his permission. They no longer had the strength to hold it. Taking his eyes off the skull, he glanced down at himself. His white shirt was quickly gaining two new red blobs on his stomach.

How?

When?

Fanel's upraised hand shook violently; a gun held by bloodstained fingers.

Frowning, Dilandau looked back at the skull again.

The skull wasn't emerging from the shirt. It was just a simple skull. The eyes had disappeared. The old man's morphing face was gone. Holding his hands to his bleeding stomach, the assassin let out a small gasp as a burning agony ripped through him; forcing him bow forward.

"You got me… old man…" Dilandau said to the shirt, his voice weak. He coughed and tasted a nasty iron flavor. Seeing his knife on the ground, he reached for it, but lost his balance. His face crashed hard on the ground and a riptide of overwhelming pain seized him. A bone-chilling cold raced up and down his arms. Glancing at his limbs, he saw his hands were grasped by icy fingers. Spectral arms emerged from the sidewalk, clawing at his wrists, holding him down. A chorus of ethereal voices whispered in his ears in a language he couldn't understand.

He couldn't move.

He couldn't escape.

"You will not interfere…" a voice mumbled the words. A squelching cough followed as more iron tasting saliva poured from his throat.

Only then did Dilandau realize he was the one who had said the words.

And that he had said it against his will.

As a swallowing darkness began to take over his mind, more familiar pale faces followed the growing black. All of them were spirits from those he'd killed. Lives he'd personally ended with his own hands. More icy fingers grasped and clawed at his body and he shook, fighting for life.

Each one of the ghosts were lidless in death. Just like the skull's eyes.

Lifting his red, glazing orbs to the figure above him, the sun shadowed Fanel's features, all except for the skull on his chest.

It was laughing again.

* * *

Van stumbled back and almost fell on his backside. The assassin – lying on his stomach on the sidewalk –fell still as his dull red eyes staring silently up at him. The silver-haired man's long body suddenly seized in short bursts of shock-waving death as if his spirit was refusing to leave his body. Staring in both fatigue and sick fascination, Van's ears barely registered the distinct sounds of distant screams. Shaking away his stunned stupor, he noticed many of the passing civilians had given them space and were running away from the bloody scene. A familiar wail of a police siren woke Van somewhat back to reality.

Turning from the staring corpse of the assassin, Van groaned and bent over as a wave of nausea hit him. He wavered like a small toddler while he tucked the gun back into the waistband of his pants. His fingers were slippery with blood. His vision fogged like a dense cloud. He knew he needed to get out of there as soon as possible. The police were the last people he wanted to see. Swaying on the spot, the black-haired man couldn't bring his feet to start walking. The black was massing further in his vision.

He wasn't aware he was falling backwards. His mind was numb.

His body was done.

Van started weakly as his back hit a solid, warm something and strong arms caught under his arms. Gentle, but firm hands wrapped around his torso and pulled him back to his staggering feet.

"Easier there, soldier." A deep voice murmured in his ear. "Looks like you could use a ride."

A familiar voice.

Too familiar.

No. It couldn't be.

Swiveling his pulsating head, Van's mahogany eyes glided into twinkling brown. Long curling gray hair, square glasses, a complete older version of his son…

_Meiden Fassa…_

* * *

_Feet shuffled loudly as the numerous nuns and 'naps marched through the dripping, echoed underground tunnels that led out of the Orphanage. Merle shifted her tired and sore shoulders and brushed her vibrant colored hair out of her eyes. Glancing around the dark, slime-covered walls, she swallowed down a feeling of apprehension and continued to lead the four 'naps in her care. Two held her hand tightly and two others grabbed the edge of her black sleeves._

_"Keep holding on to my robe, Julie." Merle whispered as she felt the small hand let go of the fabric at her wrist. Julie let out a small bit of undecipherable gibberish and moaned loudly. The poor girl had been rescued only three months earlier and was still hurting from a fractured wrist and sprained kneecap. Merle was thankful the girl didn't fight her and kept going regardless of the pain, but it seemed like the poor 'nap was almost to her limit._

_"Keep going, everyone! We are almost to the outside!" A strong voice echoed down the tunnel from the front. The small nun sighed gratefully and tried to beat down the bad feeling rising in her stomach. Her heart pounding heavily, she frowned at her unnatural bout of anxiety._

_"Sister April," Merle called out to the nun in front of her. "Can you see the end of the tunnel yet?"_

_"Not yet."_

_The girl wailed loudly and Merle tried to shush her gently. "Please, Julie, you'll be alright. Calm down, sweetheart-"_

_A popping so loud it rocked the tunnel bounced into her ears. Merle gasped, but it was drowned out by the piercing screams of 'naps._

_Gunshots…_

Her brain froze in fear. She stood still as several 'naps dropped to their knees, shrieking and crying. Many of her sisters tried to hold tight on their squirming bodies. More loud shots thundered ferociously and 'naps and nuns screamed alike. Merle was unaware that her 'naps had let go of her robes and were now running back the way they'd come.

"Your children, Merle!" April shouted startling the girl out of her shock. "The gunshots are behind us!"

Blinking, the redhead glanced around and realized with horror that she was standing alone. "Oh, God!"

"Don't go after them!" the sister shrieked as one of her 'naps tugged on her sleeve. She grabbed the offending 'nap and pushed him forward. "They are probably dead already!"

A fierce, protective anger unlike any she'd ever known ripped through her. "God help me if I let them die, April! They are my _children_!"

She turned on foot to race the dark tunnel of the underground waterway; April's protests following her. She could just hear Julie moaning loudly between the penetrating sounds of growing gunfire. Her anger pulsed with her fear. The horrible popping sounds seemed like they were flying all around her. "This can't be happening…" Her vision of the dark walls blurred as burning hot tears of fury filled her dark eyes. "This can't be happening right now… Oh, Righteous Father, please forgive me for letting them go! Please send someone to save my children!"

She let out a cry as something heavy collided with her body and sent her crashing to the dirty, slimy floor. With the breath knocked out of her lungs and the back of her head thumping painfully with her racing heartbeat, it was a good thirty seconds before Merle comprehended that the figure who had tackled her was nuzzling her neck. Reaching up, she touched long hair.

_Julie…? But how?_

Five pairs of feet came striding up to her struggling prone body. She gazed weakly to see a strange woman holding onto the arms of two more 'naps. A bright, blinding flashlight hit her face and immediately dropped to the floor to softly illuminate the tunnel. The flashlight holder walked quickly to her, pulling the last unaccounted for 'nap with him. He got on his knees beside her and, with a warm hand, brushed her back as he helped her sit up. She quickly studied the man. His dark hair was long, the tips brushing the collar of his multi-colored green uniform with the letters SDF printed on his chest. Noticing the two handguns belted to his waist and the large gun strapped to his back, she wrapped her arms around Julie to protect her.

"Are you alright, ma'am?"

"Who are you?" Merle asked feeling her anger hit her once more. "Are you here to kill us? If so, spare the children!"

"There is nothing to fear." The man beside her said with a smooth reassuring voice. "We came just as soon as they began to unload their equipment, ma'am. A few of those assassins came down here, but our group just took care of them."

The nun was confused. "Who?"

The soldier woman standing over her sighed. "Why can't you ever explain things properly, Amano?" Turning to Merle, she explained. "Sister, we are with the GIA Special Division Force. We were informed by one of our superiors that the criminal subject who goes by the name of 'Caesar' had sent a group of assassins were given orders to terminate everyone in this Orphanage. As soon as we got your exact location, we flew here and surrounded the building just in time to get rid of most of the men after you. A _dunderhead_ that will remain anonymous" – The man named Amano ducked his head and looked at the ground as if in shame– "let a few escape through this passage. We have just taken care of them. It's all clear."

"It was an accident, Yukari… We got them anyway, didn't we?"

"You're lucky we did, imbecile." Yukari hissed, straightening her back and tossing her long auburn ponytail.

"You're here to save us... you actually came to save us…" Merle whispered. With a jolt, she realized the gunshot sounds were gone. The distant screams of the 'naps were the only resonance echoing in the waterway.

Amano looked back into her wide eyes and gave a small chuckle.

"Here we come to save the day."

* * *

**One hour earlier**

Dryden's hand tightened on his seatbelt as Millerna whipped the small jeep's steering wheel sharply to the left. Allen and Chid let out an identical "Wheeee!" from the back seat as the tires squealed their discomfort.

"I still can't believe you just left that assassin in the closet." His wife growled through clenched teeth.

"What was I supposed to do? Bring him with us?"

"We should have just ended him. What if he escapes?"

"He was hog tied to the chair, Millerna! He's not going anywhere. And we have to get to your sister's house as soon as- hang on. Boss' calling again." The brown-haired man winced as Millerna made yet another frightening turn, swiveling out and almost turning the opposite way. Three cars shrieked to a stop as the woman pressed the accelerator once more.

"If you would mind _not_ driving like a crazy person, that would be swell, _honey_." Dryden complained.

The blond woman gave him a glare. "You think this is crazy? Don't test me, _honey!_"

"Eyes on the road!" Her husband shouted before answer the call. "This is Fassa!"

"_Dryden, I've sent three SDF units as soon as I got your messages. They should be there within the next fifteen. We are still gathering the manpower and supplies for the takedown in near the Museum. We should be there at 1350. The information you sent said there would be more assassins from this Agency. Do you know the exact amount?"_

Dryden opened his mouth to answer, but let out an undignified squeal as Millerna twisted dangerously on the highway ramp.

"Watch out, woman! You're going to kill us!"

"I'm doing just fine! You handle your dad!"

Turning back to the phone, the speckled man grimaced, "At least ten on the roof with sniper rifles, thirty dressed as regular APD cops, and another thirty hidden in the crowd as civilians."

"_And they are all packing?"_

"You read the message, old man! Packing heat like a menopausal woman." Millerna blue eyes zipped to her husband and she gave him an impatient look.

"Don't use that word in front of Chid!"

"Mama, what's 'menopausal' mean?"

Dryden glanced back at his son and said sweetly, "You have a lifetime to discover the mysteries of women, son. This is one of those, 'you'll find out when you need to' scenarios I was talking about."

The man on the phone sighed. _"Can we focus back to the task at hand here?"_

"This is the first time you've _not _wanted to talk about women, dad. We should have recorded this phone call." Dryden snorted a laugh. The blond woman gave his arm a strong punch and he grunted with pain.

_"I like to talk about women, Dryden, but not that part of them..."_

"What else do you need?" Dryden asked, scowling and rubbing the now sore spot on his arm.

_"You're positive this Mr. Dornkirk is the one behind the races? The one called 'Caesar'?"_

"I'd give it a solid eighty percent. He may be covering for someone above him, but from what the message states, it's clear 'Caesar' was planning a coming out party after this speech hits. Dornkirk is the leader in this particular assault. But we can't rule other possibilities out completely though."

_"What other possibilities?"_

"That he's a mislead old man and has no idea what he's really in. I highly doubt it though."

_"Noted. What about this 'target'? What do we know about her?"_

"Hitomi Kanzaki. Fought in the races all these years. Has tried to bring Caesar down with a secret group. She safe with Van last we knew. It seems as though she's their only target. They didn't mention anything about Van in their plans. I bet they still don't realize how much of a threat he is to them."

"_Underestimating Fanel… that's a stupid move."_

"His background is buried by the GIA. They have no idea who he really is."

"_Regardless, he sure got himself buried deep in this mess."_

"Dragged my entire family into it, too. Stupid bastard can't seem to help getting me involved in all his problems."

"_Have you been able to contact him?"_

"I haven't heard from him. I only know what Millerna told me."

"_Do you think he'll be down there? The girl as well?"_

"The leader of this assassin's group sure thinks so. They have quite the protection plan on this _Austurian Grandpa_."

"_What of the plans in the message? Did you decode any more information?"_

"Like I sent before, the first phone message said to rendezvous to the second floor of the Zaibach building and wait for placement. The second order was to file out naturally. Snipers get into place on top of the museum under the cover of the guymelefs at noon, cops patrol the perimeter until the Mayor arrives, and 'civilians' to scout the surrounding buildings five minutes till 2pm. If they failed to find the target before the speech starts, the orders were to wait and blend. And get this, boss. According to the news on my phone, Dornkirk said just this morning that he has something up his sleeve that will shut the GIA out for good. Regardless if he is the mastermind behind it, we can't let him give that proposal out. Not when a good third of this assassin group is hunting nuns in an underground tunnel. If we don't get this done, he'll take the GIA out politically and judiciously. He's nasty, boss."

Meiden was quiet for a moment. _"Ah, shit. This is worse than I thought. Get your ass to that museum as fast as you can. We can use you and Millerna. I've gone with the first platoon and I'll meet you on the corner of Valrie Street and Seymour." _

"We have Chid and… someone else in the car with us. We were taking them to a safe place first. We may be a few minutes late for the speech to start. Millerna's going to take the back road from 28 and we'll keep in contact with the phones. With the way she drives, you never know. We might beat you there. You go ahead and take Valrie Street since it is a one-way right to the Museum."

"_Drop the rug rat off and come immediately. And son?"_

Hissing under his breath as his wife swept beside another car and almost grazed it, Dryden murmured, "Yeah, boss?"

"_You're a good man."_

Despite his racing heartbeat and the obvious danger his wife was putting on his life, the brown-haired man gave a lopsided smile and calmly twirled a loose curl around his finger.

"I love you too, old man."

* * *

Keeping the gun at her side, Hitomi let a silly excited grin slide on her pale face as she watched Caesar climb the steps to the platform. Her green eyes flicked to the constant moving shadows of the sniper rifles back to the studious cops skimming on the thick crowd. Her body was tense with expectation. A sickening thought of wondered crossed her brain: would she feel any pain if a sniper head shot her? She hoped that when they finally killed her, it was quick. One minute here, the next gone.

Her hand holding the pistol was moist with sweat, but freezing cold. The image of Nina, eagle-spread on the floor, her hair matted with the blood of her missing face, of Balgus sputtering at her from the table as he died, of Allen's hurtful face as she left him behind…

Of Van's arms wrapped protectively around her. The one-sided kiss she'd given him made her have a surge of yearning for him. She knew it was stupid, but her eyes scanned the crowd quickly for a familiar mess of black hair. She felt even dumber for the wave of disappointment that followed her search. Of course he wouldn't be here. He was probably still passed out in the apartment.

Now was not the time for being stupid.

She moved further to the left, green eyes going back to sliding between the waiting cops and watching snipers. Seizing an opportunity, she crouched in the pathway a large, fat man who was rudely creating a convenient pathway as he pushed himself towards the front. Dornkirk lifted a hand to wave and the crowd cheered in response. Watching him stroll to the waiting microphone, she finally pushed her way out from behind the heavy man and gently brushed by the crowd, inching closer to the stage. Her gun hand accidently hit the arm of a small older gentleman as she tried to maneuver past and she thought she heard him jump in surprise.

The cops surrounded the entire bottom of the platform in rows of two. No matter where she approached the stage, they would catch her. She had to shoot from the crowd. Heart pounding, she quickly analyzed the angle between her and Dornkirk all the while fluctuating her gaze between the cops, and the moving sniper rifles. A pulse of frustration made her false smile slip from her face. The probability of hitting Dornkirk from here was slim to none. She was fair with a gun, but it would take an expert to make a shot like that.

She had to move closer.

_Every bullet counted._

It was within that second that a hard metal something poked into the middle of her spine painfully. A clammy hand grabbed her right forearm with a ferocious squeeze keeping her from lifting her pistol in retaliation. Hitomi gasped and turned her head as best as she could. The smaller old man she'd passed earlier tipped his head as if greeting her like an old friend. His thick lips curled into a delighted grin. Leaning his salt and peppered head closer to her ear, he whispered with hot smelly breath, "Hello and surprise, beautiful. We've been looking everywhere for you."

The metal barrel of his gun pressed harder and she winced in pain and horror. He gave a growling laugh. Her heart practically stopped as he audibly cocked back the hammer. The sounds of the cheering crowd washed out of her mind. She closed her eyes and lowered her head in defeat as she waited for the end. Silence engulfed her. The seconds were ticking, but they felt drawn out like minutes.

Was this really how it felt when you faced death?

Everything was slow, waiting.

The short-haired girl took one last shuddering breath.

"Say goodbye, sweetheart."

_Goodbye…_

"**Like **_**hell**_**!"**

Hitomi jerked in shock and she felt the man's tight fingers on her arm break away. The assassin grunted in pain and the barrel left her back. Whipping around with unsteady feet, her green eyes widened in astonishment as a familiar tan fist smashed into the old man's face with such force he flew backwards. His body collided with three other people standing too close and they all fell to the concrete in a heap. The older man groaned and tried to lift his gun from the ground. The newcomer was quick and - with a sickening _crack - _he kicked the assassin in the face, blood raining from his broken nose. With a fierce twitch, the old man fell backwards and laid still. A broad back and shoulders stepped in front of her. The warm wind gently tossed the tips of his black locks on the nape of his neck.

She almost dropped her pistol as tears of violent relief blurred her vision and raced down her face. The sharp shoulder blades underneath a black shirt shifted with his panting breaths. The lean muscles on his arms were flexed and tense. As he flicked his head towards her, Hitomi soaked in the image of his face. His expression was mixed with various emotions as his mahogany eyes met hers.

Anger, worry, fear, and relief…

She was hardly aware of the shrieks and cries around her as more fighting erupted around them. He reached over, breaking the dazing spell on her mind, and grabbed her shoulder with long fingers stained with blood. Through her tears, she saw his wounded arm had been newly bandaged.

"Y-You came…"

"Are you hurt?" Van's tenor voice sang into her. His hand slid up to the back of her neck and his fingers curled into her short hair. "Did they get you? Are you shot?"

She shook her head, a sob escaping her lips.

He gave an obvious sigh of relief. "We have to go. Now." With the calm swiftness she was so acquainted with, he released her and grabbed her free hand. Promptly pulling her though the panicking crowd, he led the way clumsily as more screams followed sounds of gunfire. Hitomi began to notice men and women in various shades of green uniforms storming the crowd, fighting through the uproar. Van leaped over a bleeding corpse blocking their way and held Hitomi's hand tighter as she stumbled over it.

"What's happening? Who are all these people?" She yelled at his back.

"I'll explain in a minute."

"There she is!" a woman's shriek rang out from behind their backs and Hitomi's stomach gave a sickening twist. "Get her!"

She barely registered as the black-haired man immediately pulled her forward and sheltered her protectively behind his back.

"No, Van!" She cried as he let go of her hand and he spread his arms to cover her. Hitomi gave a short scream as several guns from civilians and cops alike pointed at him.

Before anyone could react, four of the assassins fell forward, small holes drilling into their bodies. As blood instantly squirted out of the last five surrounding them, Hitomi and Van turned their heads in unison to where the slugs had come from.

"Millerna!"

The long-haired blond woman knelt low on top of an older modeled jeep that was parked haphazardly twenty feet away. Millerna shifted her weight and sprayed more bullets from the large gun in her hands, taking down a number of cops near the stage. With a blood-thirsty glint in her blue eyes, she gave a short nod in their direction, her huntress gaze hungrily drinking in the destruction.

"Let's go!" Van grabbed her hand again. Dodging invisible bullets and swinging around the violent pandemonium around them, he finally yanked her behind the large black semi-truck responsible for holding the platform equipment. Van immediately leaned heavily against the side of the vehicle; gasping for breath. Slugs slammed into the truck after them.

More shouts and screams. This was mass chaos.

His tan face was unusually pale as he let go of her hand and coughed quietly.

"Why did you…" Hitomi began, wiping her eyes with shaking fingers. She couldn't complete the question.

Rolling his head towards her still panting, he shot her a small smile. "The GIA, Hitomi. Dryden tipped them off. Apparently, he got that assassin bastard's phone and got all the information from it. I don't really get the particulars, but that's not important. He immediately called an old acquaintance of ours at the top of the GIA and gave him everything on Caesar, the races, the nuns and 'naps, the assassins - _everything_. The GIA code breakers are digging into the files as we speak. Secret bank accounts, scandal after scandal that has been hushed or ignored, all the secrets are opening. The hacker we have here has even tracked the radio frequency they are using right now. The GIA is shutting this game down. And it's all because of you."

A white-hot rage irrationally burned inside her belly and coursed through her veins. She glared ferociously at him and his smile vanished.

"What's wrong?"

"You IDIOT!" She screamed, pushing the white skull on his black shirt. "Why did you come, Van? You're hurt! You can barely stand! Why?!" She wanted to punch him. To kick him. To kiss him so hard that she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from doing so. "You are such an idiot! Idiot! Idiot! How can you be so reckless!?"

His mahogany eyes grew defensive. He pushed off the truck and his eyebrows crunched together. "_Me, _reckless!? What about you? You left me, Hitomi! What was I supposed to do? Let you die? Let you run off and get yourself killed? I just saved your life back there and you get angry at me!"

"I have every reason to be angry! You stood in front of those guns!"

His face leaned close to hers and she raised her chin to aggressively meet his anger. "I could say the same to you! You had no idea what you were getting yourself into!"

"I knew exactly what I was-"

"No, you didn't! You were walking into Dornkirk's waiting assassins!"

"I knew that he was waiting for me! I knew it already! I saw the sniper rifles! I saw the cops!"

Van lifted a hand as if he was going to grab her shoulder, but ran it through his hair instead. "Then why the hell would you go? It's suicide!"

"One bullet, Van! That's what Balgus said! It would take just one bullet to stop this entire-"

"Sacrificing yourself is what Balgus would have wanted? To see you throw your life away like this? Would he be proud to see you die!?"

"_He_ was willing to-"

"We are talking about _you_! Not him! This is _your life_, Hitomi! Balgus is dead! But _you_ are still alive!"

"I know he's dead! He died for the cause and-"

"And that makes dying for it your destiny as well? Just because he got killed suddenly you are doomed to the same fate?"

"This was never about fate. This is about doing what is right. You don't understand-"

"I understand a lot of things, but your self-sacrificing attitude is getting out of hand!"

Her nose almost touched his as she snarled, "Stop interrupting me!"

"Not until you stop being so altruistic all the damn time!"

"_Altruistic!?_ You're saying that like it's a bad thing!"

"Yes! In this case, it is a terribly bad thing! You have biggest martyr complex of anyone I've ever met! You have to die for this! You have to die for that! Let's just thrust yourself into the big middle of it all and hope for the best! God, Hitomi, you are so screwed up!"

"I have served more than five years of my life for this fight! Every time I competed in those races I could have died! So, yeah, maybe you're right, Van. Maybe I have a complex when it comes to life and death, but at least I know what is worth dying for! I would willingly give it up if I saw the chance to actually take Caesar out! I knew the risk, so I left you out of it!"

A flash of pain shot across his face. "And another thing: how could you do that?! Disappear! No questions answered, no 'goodbye, Van, I'm off to die'! You left me in there! To wake up and realize you were gone! That the next time I'd probably see you is in a coffin! I can't handle that, Hitomi! Not again! Not EVER!"

"I said goodbye to you!" Hitomi felt her cheeks grow hotter as a vision of her kissing his sleeping lips rushed past her mind and her green eyes unwillingly flicked to his frowning mouth. "But really, what was I supposed to do? You were bleeding from a gunshot hole in your arm and you'd passed out because of it!"

"I'm fine!"

"Oh, yeah, sure! You are at top peak condition right now, aren't you!?" She hollered and pushed roughly on his chest. His back hit against the large vehicle behind him and he groaned in pain. "I left you in the apartment so you'd live, Van!"

"How could I live with myself if you died on me?!"

Hitomi choked on her rebuttal and the anger in Van's eyes drained away. A faint blush popped on his cheeks, but he kept her eyes in his. She felt some of her fight fall short as her heart began racing unnaturally, pulsing through her body like wild-fire. They both were panting, staring at each other, studying every inch and expression.

"So, what are you saying, then?" She willed herself to say the words and they emerged trembling and reluctant. "Would I just be another guilty weight on your conscience like those you lost in your squad? Would I be a sad regret to reflect on every now and then like your brother? Or would you be losing something more than that?"

"I… I don't know what you're talking about?" He answered hesitantly.

Hitomi groaned in frustration. "I guess I have to explain it perfectly clear for you to get it! Do I mean more to you? More than normal?"

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His hot gaze danced over her lips.

"Well, what is it?" She demanded. He audibly swallowed and something behind her head caught his eye.

"Van, thank God I found you," a green uniformed man with long, graying, curly hair was waltzing towards them. His brown eyes twitched between the two of them with an odd glint and she knew this stranger had probably heard the entire fight. He stopped by her side and regarded her with a blank – virtually bored - gaze. "This the girl?"

"Yeah," the black-haired man grunted still leaning against the truck. "Hitomi, this is Meiden Fassa. He's the Head of the Special Division Force in the GIA. Sir, this is the girl I was telling you about on the way up here."

Meiden inclined his head in greeting. "Keeping my boy love-drunk off his ass, are you?"

Van let out a sharp cough.

"I-I-I…" The short-haired girl stammered with a quick blush. "Nice to meet you…"

The man's lined face stayed neutral, but his voice gained a bitter tone. "Van, I came looking for you because I need your assistance. We lost visual on the Mayor several minutes ago. The squads assigned to take him out got occupied with an unexpected number of civilian assassins. He was last seen fleeing down the back sidewalk towards the Zaibach Building several blocks away down Racer Drive. Since that was the location were the assassins came from, there's a good chance he's hiding out there now and trying to find a way to escape. My on-site hacker is still attempting to fully connect into the frequency transmitting from there. Even without the radio, this was your specialty back in the day. I want you to track him and find his ass. I'll send backup as soon as I can scrounge more men from the fighting."

"I'll do it!" Hitomi announced, stepping forward and lifting her chin with determination. The forgotten gun in her right hand suddenly felt heavy in her fingers.

"He's got four of those mindless body guards with him."

"He has 'naps with him?" Hitomi's heart rose to her throat.

"It's too dangerous for a common civilian." Meiden said sharply with a slight raise of his eyebrows. "I don't know your background training, ma'am, but Van graduated top of his class in the SDF."

"Van is in no shape to go, Mr. Fassa. I'll take Dornkirk out."

"No, I'll go." Van shook his head and straightened up once more. "You stay here."

"I'm not staying!"

"Yes, you are!"

"I'm going!"

"No way in hell!"

"You can't make me stay!" Hitomi shouted childishly and took a step forward. Within milliseconds, they were back in each other's faces.

"Oh, yes I can!"

"Should I just go myself?" The Head officer offered with a growing smirk.

Van growled and turned to Meiden. "Sir, I beg you to keep her here and don't let her out of your sight!"

"You can't do that, Van! You can't!"

"Sir, please!"

"I'm going! He can't stop me! Don't tell me what to do!"

"Shut-up, Hitomi!" Van roared at her and the next thing she knew his lips crushed themselves against hers. Her breath caught roughly and her eyes were wide. His face shifted to the left and he boldly opened her mouth with his tongue. She was frozen, completely still. Her mind blanked allowing him take hold of her. He lifted his hands, his right burying itself into her hair and the other on the small of her back, pushing her roughly against his body.

It was then that she closed her eyes. She unthinkingly dropped her pistol on the ground and her arms sprang up to wrap themselves around his tan neck. She returned his kiss with all the passion, anger, and love she felt for him. His kiss was exciting, thrilling, frustratingly exhilarating. She had longed for him to kiss her. For him to feel the same way she did. He pressed her even further and she came willingly, standing on her toes and leaning into him. Everything was so simple and yet so messed up. The world was falling apart around them. And still, she twisted her tongue around his, indulging in the very essence of her hero…

Van…

She moved her arms off his neck and pushed lightly on his shoulders to break the kiss. His mahogany eyes opened and were scorching like molten lava. They branded into her. Body and soul. Those hot eyes flicked back to her lips and she both saw and felt the intense longing in him.

"You can't…" Hitomi couldn't seem to catch her breath properly. "You can't leave me…"

"Hitomi… I have to go…" His voice was husky, his eyes still on her parted lips.

"Please… don't leave me behind…"

His arms slid from her body. Her skin prickled with a chilling fear. Tears raced to her green eyes as Meiden stepped up beside her and put his hand on her small shoulder. The long-haired man reached back with his free hand and plucked something out of his pocket. "Take this," he said holding out an intricate folding dagger. "Got it off the bloke you pegged earlier. It might come in handy, son."

Taking the sharp knife, Van stepped away and swallowed.

"Thank you, sir," he said to Meiden, but his fiery gaze switched immediately on her, burning and freezing her at the same time.

The first of her sobs hit her as he disappeared around the truck.

* * *

Millerna slid off the roof of her bullet riddled jeep and her expecting husband immediately caught her in his arms. Her blue eyes widened and she grinned into his shining brown as his hands gave her butt a small squeeze before setting her on her feet.

"Out of ammo." She tossed the gun into his hands and his expert fingers popped the massive chamber open to reload. She picked up the M-16 rifle waiting beside him and said, "The snipers are down. Looks like most of the cops have been subdued. It's the civilian assassins that are giving the most trouble. How many rounds?"

"Got four more ready with the long-shot. We have six left in all. Go easy on it."

"Van has his girl."

"Good."

"Heard anything from your dad yet?"

"Got the phone ready and waiting. He'll call to update soon."

Bracing the rifle under her arm, she reached out with her free hand and grabbed a fistful of her husband's shirt and pressed her lips tightly to his. Releasing him after a few seconds, she leapt like a lioness back on the jeep. Dryden stood still for a moment, just blinking.

"Damn it, woman…"

* * *

Van raced down the street, dodging the numerous fights and jumping over still bodies. Austuria had become a warzone. Pressing himself close to the wall for protection, he quickly slipped around upturned chairs, tables, and around the large debris that once served as a stage for Dornkirk's speech. His brain concentrated on his destination, but his thoughts whirled in the afterglow of her kiss.

He didn't know why he kissed her. It was almost as if he had to just to make her stop hollering at him. She was insane! She was a brat! She had to be saved practically twenty-four/seven from her own personal vendettas. She was irresistibly intoxicating and incredibly frustrating and totally out of control half the time! And he was just as insane for feeling this way. This was dangerous. He needed to have a clear head, cool mind, calculate the danger that he faced. But… he couldn't get his heart to stop pulsing fiercely in his chest. He couldn't control his unstable urge to turn around, abandon everything, and kiss her once more. He was full of fury, full of passion… full of Hitomi.

A small part of his brain – one that had somehow detached itself from the naturally guiding him through the current mission and the dazzling energetic aura kissing Hitomi had given him – focused on the image of her face just before he left.

He was being a hypocrite. He was doing exactly what she had done to him in the apartment.

Except he'd kissed her before he'd left.

Who was he to judge when he'd left her like that? Swollen lips and pure sorrow in her glittering green eyes? He'd called her altruistic as an insult. But in reality, who was the actual martyr in this present situation? And really, thinking back on their last twenty-four hours together, who was the one continually wanting to push her aside? Make her wait for him to return from danger? Keeping her protected behind his back? Hell, he was just as guilty – if not more so – for being altruistic to a fault.

They were too similar.

Both of them were idiots.

A small smile glazed on his lips as he passed another block and swiftly changed direction to avoid a speeding cop car. Would she wait for him to return or would she find a way to get away from Meiden and follow him? If it was the latter, Van found he wouldn't be surprised.

After several more blocks, his breath was beginning to catch up to him. He'd ate a small energy bar in the truck as one of Meiden's men patched up his arm, but that still wasn't enough energy for him to have full strength. His arm was wrapped again, but it was still painful. He was a bit dizzy, but the energy bar was keeping him steady. The GIA didn't use those bars for nothing.

Crossing the street, his mahogany eyes grazed forward as the tall reflective building rose to meet him. Standing large and selfishly proud on the sidewalk, Zaibach was considered one of the largest exporting companies in the nation. Briefly, Van wondered how many other more 'personal' exports Zaibach had done these past decades. The code breakers and hackers were probably discovering it right now. Cautiously approaching, he reached back and pulled up his gun.

_Four 'naps plus Caesar…_

Swallowing, Van's heart picked up a pace or two as he slipped into the shadow of the building and raised his gun to eye-level. Combing the alleyway, he let go of a held breath and continued around the side. The massive structure was at least one-fourth of a mile long wide. It stretched around into a personal park laying behind the building. Keeping his mind clear despite his racing heart, his mahogany eyes darted to the front of the alleyway and back. He quickened his pace. It would be bad to be caught here with absolutely no shelter. He cleared the alleyway with a sigh of relief and jogged to the tall fence dividing the park from the backside of Zaibach. Van hissed as a small spoke on top of the fence stabbed his bandaged arm while he climbed over it.

"Damn it…" he cursed under his breath, wincing and blinking back the blooming pain as blood began to seep through the fresh bandage.

Dropping from the fence, he raised his gun and found his hands already shaking. His brain pulsed with the waves of sharp pain that throbbed from his forearm. The white gauze spread more and more red with each passing thump of his heart. Hearing the door open, he dashed across the decorative garden and dive-rolled behind a large rosebush just as a 'nap dressed in APD gear walked out into the patio twenty feet away. The man turned to the face the alleyway, his blank eyes scanning the area Van had just been not a few seconds ago. He had a finger to his ear and was saying something quietly into a headset.

A radio transmitter.

Excellent.

Stepping out, the black-haired man closed in like a shadow. The mindless man hardly had time to react before he was down with Van's shoe imprinted on his face. He checked the man's pulse underneath the leather collar buckled around his neck as he unburdened the 'nap of his transmitter. The heart beat was steady and slow.

Van felt a jolt of nostalgia hit him and he couldn't help smiling to himself as he attached the radio to his own head. Hitomi would have hated him for kicking a 'nap, but desperate times called for desperate action.

A woman's emotionless voice spoke into his ear:

"…_on the bottom floor and watch for intruder coming through around back. Master wants Pawn 376 on the second floor to watch front streets and Pawn 209 on the seventh to scan the surveillance camera. All elevators have been cut. Master will be with Pawn 13 on the twenty-ninth floor awaiting the helicopter. Pawn 13 has been commanded to leave with Master when the helicopter. Pawns will stay on radio frequency and contact Pawn 13 if there is any sign of intruder. Master commands Pawn 13 to inform Pawn 376 and Pawn 209 and Pawn 244 to stand ground until Master gives word."_

Blank male voices answered her in unison. _"Pawn understood and obey."_

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Van struggled to allow his instincts to take control. Hurrying silently to the doorway, he quietly slipped into the silent building and scanned the large exquisitely decorated lobby for any sign of movement down the barrel of his upraised gun. After a waiting a half-minute, he crossed the clean marble floors to the stairwell doorway. Opening the door, he entered into a surprisingly atmospheric flight of stairs. Red carpet, soft lighting, and even mild piano music wafted a calming ambience. Clenching his gun to his chest, he climbed the stairs, passing the second floor and within only a minute, the seventh. No sign of a 'nap.

Keeping his breath slow and even, the stars were beginning to wink over his vision. Shaking his head, he blinked down at his arm and grimaced. His arm looked awful. How much more blood did he have left in his system?

"_Male intruder has appeared in the stairwell. Intruder is alone. Permission to seek out and kill."_ The male voice whispered in his ear from the radio. Van's heart hammered painfully in his chest and he lifted his gun immediately, making himself dizzy as he swung it first up the stairs then down the stairs.

"_Master says stand your ground and continue surveillance."_

A wash of confusion and relief hit him. Why… why would they let him continue? They knew he was coming for Dornkirk. This didn't make any sense. A slow thumping noise made the black-haired man twitch and point his gun to near his feet. A darker liquid was slowly hitting the red carpet floor by his side.

His blood.

Oh, shit.

By the twenty-fifth floor, Van was bracing himself on the wall; the black in his eyes dangerously close to overcoming his mind. His instincts urging him forward one more step, one more flight, but his body was giving out. He's lost too much blood. He didn't have any strength left to keep his control up. They probably let him continue because they knew he couldn't. The thought of weakness, of not being able to fulfill his promise, of failure couldn't spur him to keep going.

He was too weak. Caesar would escape. The other two pawns would find him in the stairwell and probably shoot him as he lie unconscious. He tried to focus on his mission, but he it felt as if that part of his brain was shutting down. He was losing control of his body. His limbs trembled so violently, he worried his twitching finger would pull the trigger accidentally.

Closing his eyes and panting heavily, another part of his brain slowly seem to awaken within him as the other one slowly failed. He felt a strange, frustrated and irrational anger pulse through his chest. Green eyes pierced the darkness and Van's body warmed as he reveled in his fierce resolve.

Forget calm and methodical thinking. Forget order. Forget his training.

It's time to do things a different way.

Stumbling past the twenty-eighth floor, he knew he was using pure will; at the forefront of his entire consciousness was the vision of green eyes brimming with tears. His fingers mechanically curled into his palms as he reveled in the way she'd felt under his hands. Her soft hair spreading through his fingers. Her body pushing into his as if she was just as hungry for more of him as he was of her. Her arms trapping his lips on hers as she wrapped them tightly behind his neck. Energy coursed through each of his fatigued limbs as both ice and fire tumbled together inside him. His eyes cleared a bit more, his panting slowed a bit less, and Van took the last flight with more drive than he'd ever thought possible. He was both surprised and motivated by his new-found strength. He had a power inside him he'd never tried tapping into before.

An unstoppable, raging fire. The rage of a warrior.

And at last…

_The twenty-ninth floor._

* * *

Dornkirk swallowed down the bitterness that had settled in his thin chest and lifted a wrinkled hand to stroke his white beard. He stood quietly, a small whistle in his nose the only indicator the man was even breathing. Dust covered his new pin-striped suit and a few drops of blood sprinkled his shinned black leather shoes. His eyes glazed from the huge window to the billowing smoke rising several blocks away. Twisting the glossy hairs from his chin gently against his knuckles, a small irritated sigh released from his parted lips. Those GIA bastards… damn them all to hell… He wasn't defeated yet.

Not while there was still air in his lungs.

Pawn 13 stood statuesque behind him, watching the stairwell doorway with her SMG raised and frozen in place. Waiting.

The bitterness grew into a boiling fury and he lowered his hand from his beard and to his side.

"This is just tragic," he murmured with a small voice of calm regret. A small humorless laugh escaped him. "And all to take out your 'pawn', 'Rodger Mackmore'. My plans were perfect, but of course, even in death, you still are a thorn in my side. I thought I'd only have to handle _her_, but she brought the damn GIA out on me." He let out another laugh. "Backstabbed, betrayed by one I'd once called brother, yes, yes, Caesar was always a fitting name for myself. You couldn't let me have my empire, could you? Just like Brutus, you are full of deception. You are my Brutus, Balgus. It seems as though you were destined to be so. You thought once you showed up as the illustrious 'Rodger Mackmore' I'd let you in to my plans. You tried to trick me, pretend to love me and worship me like the other Masters, but I knew it was only so you'd finally finish me. Put the bullet in my head that was meant to be there years ago. We've both changed drastically as the years passed, but I'd recognize your smug face anywhere. I was like vapor to you though. You didn't know who I was. I was always right here, but you never really looked. I regret you never truly saw me in the throne of Caesar, old friend. The new name "Dornkirk" kept me from your watchful eye, but I regret you never knew. That you have never seen me at the peak of my greatness. Even back then when we were young boys you never _knew _the real me, Balgus. Your little Isaac – the one who no one watched, the one who no one expected anything from, the one you always had to shamefully protect – has gotten the last laugh."

The old man didn't laugh. Instead, his eyes grew dim.

"I have never wanted to admit it, but I made a mistake. I should have taken both you and the girl out long ago. Even before the games had started. I knew you'd come for me eventually." His white eyebrows rose as if a question was asked. "Why didn't I? Because there was something so satisfying thinking you could hide from me. Thinking you were being so secretive. You have no idea, Balgus. I knew from the moment I first saw her in the arena that she was yours. She was so lethal, so vibrant, and so destructive. She was a force. I knew she was the one from that time. I followed your footsteps while you thought you were winning the games. And there you were, 'Rodger Mackmore'." His raised eyebrows hitched together. "There was a time when you understood me and I understood you. The years when we were full of ambitions. We both had the same dreams. The same hopes. The same determinations for a world where we stood on top. And then you met that little _bitch._" The thin skin of his hands popped out blue veins as he clenched his fists.

"She is the reason you betrayed me, my old friend! She is the reason you are dead! You could be here, standing beside me, on top of the world! But you are now nothing more than memories! Foolish and dead… It was that day, the day long ago in Fanelia where we saw the true power of the secrets we were selling across the Wayward Sea… Fanelia completely obliterated by the raiders. I knew the possibilities then! I knew the power I could gain from a world like this! A world ran by my hand! By the things I could do, the secrets that would destroy and rebuild, the people who would live and die by my rules! It was endless! You only saw her. The small little girl crying into her rags beside us. She'd run away, left her parents, came to the top of the summit just to see everything destroy right before her eyes. And then the old witch with her appeared screaming and raging. She hit you and hit you and you just took it as if you were ashamed of what just happened! You cried for them. And worst of all, you took them with you. I watched in disgust as my best friend suddenly transformed from my most trusted companion to my worst enemy. I should have gunned her down right then. Blown them both to hell with the rest of Fanelia. But like the fool I was, I thought nothing of it. I thought you'd come back to me. And now this. It has all led to _this._"

"Master, there is an intruder on the stairwell. Pawn 209 is requesting permission to kill."

Dornkirk uncurled his fists. Staring out at the sea of smoke and flashing red and blue lights of his bright city, he turned his head, letting his snowy white beard cascade over his shoulder.

"Let whoever it is come to me. I'm sure it's someone I have a score to settle with."

* * *

Van approached the door and placed a hand on the doorknob. His mind attempted to keep the balanced control of his instincts, but his fingers immediately began to quiver violently over the handle. Shaking his head against the fuzz, he backed away, lifted a foot, and used his strength to kick the door in.

He ducked back into the hallway and let one bullet escaped his gun just as thundering _pop, pop, pop, pop, pop_'s from a semi-automatic ripped into the doorway. He waited for the piercing gunshots to end. He tried to calculate the exact location of the slugs, but another wave of nausea hit his eyes. The warrior in him made him clenching his teeth, lean his hand out, fire a wild shot. He heard a small squeal of a woman's voice and the loud sound of a large metallic thing falling to the carpet. Panting, Van wondered if he should look. Glancing around the doorway, he was surprised to see the woman standing right there. She fell forward and lay still with her head sticking out a bit in the hallway. Her long hair pooled on the red carpet as her blood began seeping out of her body.

_**BOOOM**__!_

A surging heat blasted him from his feet, slammed him into the back wall, and he crashed into the floor; a tumbling heap. The world rocked. He couldn't breathe. A loud ringing sang shrilly in his head. He swam in a sea of swirling blackness.

A hand grenade? A bomb? What the hell was that? In his throbbing brain a memory surfaced: Hitomi in her pajama shorts holding her fake leather collar in his truck. The melodious voice of the news anchor woman from Dryden's television at the bar whispered, _"__The dead had their heads blown off from the mysterious contraption strapped to the victim's neck."_

He'd killed the woman. The bomb on her neck went off.

Opening his swimming mahogany eyes, Van wondered if he could still walk. The other two 'naps probably heard the explosion and were on their way for him. He had to get Dornkirk. He had to sure that even if he couldn't keep his promise at returning to her, he'd at least done his job.

With a snarling groan, he shifted his aching arms and all his muscles vibrated weakly as he pushed himself up.

"Who the hell are you?" The voice of an old man rang out from above his head. Van feebly lifted his fogging eyes to see the swirling form of Dornkirk standing in front of him, his white beard swaying and the pistol Van had dropped in his wrinkled hand, the short barrel pointed right at Van's head. "You're not the bitch."

"Don't…" Van murmured, attempting to get up once more. "Don't…"

"You're just an insolent pup. You have no business even being here. I thought the bitch would come after me."

"Don't… c-c…"

"Don't? That is your last words, soldier?"

"Don't… call her… bitch…" His anger flared. Swinging his arm around, the black-haired man grabbed the folding dagger Meiden had given him and flicked it open with one swift movement. He roared as he stashed forward, blindingly. The sharp blade dug thickly into the thin skin of the old man's lower legs and stuck deep in the small muscle of his right calf. Dornkirk crashed to the floor and dropped the gun, howling in agony. Pulling himself forward by his arms, Van reached desperately for the gun that had fallen several inches away.

"You _bastard!_" Dornkirk roared, blood pouring down his legs. His wizened hands yanked on the dagger to no avail. "I'll kill you!" The old man stretched further than Van, seizing the pistol in his crumpled, bloody, trembling fingers. The gun swung to point at his face once more.

This was it.

This was the last thing he would see.

The part of Van, the fierce warrior part of him that had spurred him on, fell away.

He knew true death when he saw it. Even his own dazed, pain-ridden, damaged brain recognized it.

_At least I finally kissed her_… he thought randomly. _And she kissed me back… It sucks, but I think I can die with that. There was a lot more I wanted to do with her. A whole lot more I wanted to tell her. But I saved her. She lives because I came for her last night. Because I protected her every way I could. And she'll keep on living because of it. That's enough for me._

Van closed his eyes and waited.

_Goodbye, Hitomi…_

A loud _BANG_ echoed down the hallway.

And he breathed in…

And he breathed out…

Everything fell silent around him, except for the ringing in his ears. A soft gasp from a beloved voice resounded from somewhere behind him and he both heard and felt soft pounding of footsteps treading up steps. Suddenly, cold hands were on his shoulders, touching his face, his back, his torso.

He knew these hands…

"H-H…"

Small arms wrapped themselves around him and turned him gently on his back. He opened his glazed eyes to meet with the most gorgeous green he'd ever seen in his life.

"H-Hit…"

"Shhhh," she quieted him, obviously holding back her tears. She put a hand on his chest and the chill went through the fabric of his shirt. He rejoiced in the burning-cold tingles that ran through him. Despite being on the edge of unconsciousness, Van was very aware of her. How she ran her cold hands around his body, checking on his various wounds. How the small blue shirt she wore rose even higher on her stomach from her panting breaths. Even how her knee was touching the upper part of his thigh ever so slightly.

"Dorn…" He tried to ask.

"I shot him, Van. He's dead. It's over."

With a violently shaking hand, he reached up and touched her soft face. "Y-You saved me…"

"About time I returned the favor, huh?" She smiled and a tear slipped out of her lovely eyes. He tried to wipe it away with his thumb, but he lost the strength and his hand flopped to his heaving chest. "I heard the explosion… Thank God you are alive, Van. I was so afraid I was too late."

"…Right on t-time…"

She let out a laugh through her watering eyes. She glanced at the debris around her and back into his face. "Well, I probably could have come a _little _earlier..."

He gazed lazily into her face, marveling at the changes in her expressions. The beautiful vitality of her. God, she was something else.

"H-How…?"

"Let's just say, I convinced Meiden to let me go. He gave me a better gun and some directions. I ran into Dryden and Millerna on the way. They came with me and are taking care of the 'naps on the second and seventh floor. Meiden is tracking where the helicopter is coming from. It's just like you said. It's… finally over. All the secrets are opening."

"How d-did you know…"

"Meiden told us everything that was said in the radio frequency from Dryden's phone. That hacker tapped the frequency line." Her shinning eyes gazed over the scars and burns on his body. Her cold hands touched his forehead and the shock of it helped to anchor his swirling vision. "You are so hurt."

"I'll l-live…" Van groaned out. "I have… I have to… I have to…"

"What?" She questioned with a quiet voice. "You have to what?"

"Come… closer…" He murmured. Her green eyes flashed curiosity as she pulled her face closer to his. The fierce fiery warrior in Van surfaced just enough to help him pull her head down and press her lips to his. She let out a small, surprised cry, but the shock was very short-lived. His head felt like it was drowning with extreme fatigue, pain, and the intense pleasure kissing her brought him.

This was living.

This was the purpose he'd be missing all those lonely years of his life.

Dryden was right. She was stubborn, argumentative, ungrateful, and never listened to him. She was bossy, irrational, and irresistibly beautiful. This was what he had been waiting for. A woman who could bring out something in him he hadn't even known existed. A fire that burned so brightly, he knew he could do anything. Be anything. If he had her by his side, he felt as though he could move the very mountains themselves.

Van let out a grunt of pain between their lips as her hand hit a tender bruise on his arm and Hitomi backed away with a worried face. She opened her mouth to speak, but he immediately pulled her back in for another kiss.

Maybe he'd try mountain moving _after_ he was healed…

00000000The End0000000

* * *

**As always, I hate mistakes. I miss them a lot because I type too fast and then I'm too lazy to properly edit. If you spy any of those little devils that evaded me, please point them out and I will fix it pronto. **

**I have been discussing with Nainari about a possible epilogue for this story. If you want it, just let me know. I'll give you something sweet. :)**

**Thanks for reading and if you enjoyed it, please let me know. **

**blue...**


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